


Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage - Vol. II: Resistance

by SilverPatronus19



Series: Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Divination, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione Granger & Blaise Zabini Friendship, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley Friendship, Hermione Granger & Theodore Nott Friendship, Hermione Granger-centric, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Legend/Prophecy, Light Angst, Magical Bond, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 96,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28539264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverPatronus19/pseuds/SilverPatronus19
Summary: At long last the war has ended, and the survivors are desperate to return to normal. They have no idea their quiet year is threatened by a dark shadow unlike anything they’ve faced before, and all may be lost if an unwilling heroine resists her destiny.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015963
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	1. Of Speeches and Sorting

**Author's Note:**

> This is Volume II of Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage. Please begin by reading Volume I, which provides the appropriate backstory.

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 1: Of Speeches and Sorting**

“You’re looking for Granger, just admit it.”

“Shut your face, Zabini.”

“Well, pick a compartment,” Blaise drawled. “I don’t wanna run into Pansy–”

“Theo?”

Blaise was cut off mid-sentence as Draco spotted the tall Slytherin down the corridor. Theo turned and came over, giving them both a clap on the shoulder. Draco stared at him. “Where in Salazar’s pants have you been, Nott? You send over your house-elves and just vanish–”

“I was travelling over the summer,” Theo answered simply. “I had no intention of returning to the Estate, so I summoned the elves and informed them they were free. When they insisted that they wanted nothing of the sort, I convinced them they’d make me happy by serving my friends and I sent them to you.”

“And you just … left?”

“Yes, I did.” The tone did not welcome questions. Draco didn’t know what to say. Theo wasn’t the type to run away with no set plan.

Blaise opted to return Theo’s clap on the shoulder. “You’ll come spend Christmas at the Manor, mate?”

“Inviting people to _my_ Manor now, Blaise?” Draco drawled.

“Well I’m practically your wife now, so I think it’s only fair.”

*** *** ***

As they boarded the carriages to take them to Hogwarts, Hermione wondered if the Thestrals were confused by the sudden onset of attention from people who could now see them. When they exited their carriage, Hermione gave their Thestral a pat, then looked around confused.

“Don’t the carriages usually go straight to the doors?” Ginny asked, echoing Hermione’s thoughts. They were standing at the gates to the entrance of the Hogwarts grounds where a crowd of students gathered. The twelve-foot gate was usually flung open to welcome students, but it stood firmly closed and seemed to nearly shudder with the force of its protective enchantments.

When the last of the students had exited the carriages, the gate slowly began to open inward. But where there should be empty space through which to enter, a tall stream of water pounded down across the entire width of the gate.

The Gryffindors moved forward as students began passing through the watery gate. Confused murmurs trickled through the crowd. Hermione wondered if this was some type of enchantment to confirm student identities or detect Dark objects.

Filch stood in front of the waterfall, croaking at the students to pass through in single file. Hermione followed Harry through the rushing water, which chilled her to the bone.

Now dripping wet and shivering on the other side of the gate, Harry greeted Professor Flitwick who carried a long scroll of students’ names. Hermione joined them and the professor happily greeted her, checked her off the list, and dried her and Harry with flicks of his wand. They waited for Ron and Ginny before they scrambled up the hill together. The familiar silhouettes of the castle towers against the darkening sky was the most welcome sight they could’ve imagined.

*** *** ***

“I wish to extend the warmest of welcomes to our new students, returning students, and especially to our older students returning as veterans of the Second Wizarding War,” Professor McGonagall began. Only those who knew her quite well noticed the small catch in her stern voice.

“Thanks to many volunteers over the summer months, our home at Hogwarts has been fully restored and no traces of Dark magic remain in the castle. We are pleased to walk, study, and teach safely within these walls once again.

“Before we commence with the sorting, there are several things you all must be aware of, including new rules implemented to ensure the safety of our students, as well as promote inter-house unity in the aftermath of the war.” Some students visibly rolled their eyes, and many dark glances were sent in the direction of the Slytherin table. Hermione knew the Death Eater trial results were widely publicized – under the Order’s scrutiny to ensure the _Prophet_ posted only the truth – but prejudices ran deep, and many people were still paranoid despite every Slytherin in the Hall being cleared to return to school.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and continued her speech. “You all passed through the new waterfall built into the gates, which washes away enchantments and disguises. This extra layer of security prevents any uninvited guest making their way into our grounds undetected.” Harry and Ron shared a knowing grimace, and Hermione suspected they were thinking of Barty Crouch Junior. Along the table a few girls frantically checked their pocket mirrors and reapplied their beauty glamour spells in a panic, not realizing they’d been washed away. Hermione chortled to herself, pleased that she didn’t bother with such things.

“The protective enchantments around the castle were strengthened this summer. As always, Apparation is impossible within school grounds, and Portkeys cannot be used. We also keep the Floo Network under strict observation, and only the fireplace in the Head office can be used to enter or exit the castle. You will do well to remember that attempting to breach the perimeter enchantments – which includes taking _one step_ into the Forbidden Forest – will cause a rather unpleasant shock. I suggest you all keep a safe distance from the edge of the grounds.” Hermione was impressed and made a mental note to ask the Headmistress later about the enchantments. She wondered if blocking the Forest was Molly Weasley’s idea.

Professor McGonagall went on to introduce the members of the staff. A short wizard named Professor Switch was introduced as the new Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor. The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was a tall, thin wizard called Professor Gangrous. Across from Hermione, Parvati Patil visibly held back a squeal of delight when the Headmistress announced that upon Professor Trelawney’s retirement, the handsome centaur Firenze would now be teaching all Divination lessons.

“On the subject of Muggle Studies, the Ministry has passed a new law that all Hogwarts students are required to take one compulsory year–” Her announcement was abruptly cut off by an explosion of outrage at the Slytherin table, accompanied by additional shouting from the other house tables – some in agreement and some in backlash.

“I won’t learn about those animals!” Pansy Parkinson wailed. Hermione shot her a dirty look but was pleased to see in her peripheral vision that neither Malfoy nor Zabini were protesting, though Malfoy rolled his eyes in the direction of the loud Slytherin girl.

“Silence!” Professor McGonagall required a Sonorus Charm to gain back the attention of her students. Many of the first years were huddled together with their hands over their ears. “This is a _law_ , and it will be followed regardless of one’s private opinions. Those of you in the seventh year who were not raised by at least one Muggle guardian are required to complete an hour of Muggle Studies each week. Your graduation from Hogwarts depends on this. Representatives from the Ministry of Magic’s new Muggle Relations Division will be managing these lectures. Students from first through sixth year have the option of attending the lessons now or postponing for another year. Your Heads of house will arrange the schedules. This is _not_ open for discussion.”

Grumbles persisted across the Hall. Ron and Ginny looked at each other curiously, and Hermione realized the Weasleys would be taking the lessons though she and Harry would be exempt. She snuck another glance at Malfoy and Zabini, wondering how they would handle the classes, which would hopefully differ from the mandatory “Muggle-Scum Studies” taught by the Carrows last year.

“I have one last item to discuss before we commence with Sorting our new students. We are implementing a few changes this year which pertain to our house system.” Professor McGonagall was clearly hesitant about approaching this topic; she immediately paused as though expecting more backlash. Hermione subconsciously held her fork tightly in her left hand and waited while the Headmistress looked down at the new group of first years kindly.

“Our four houses are named for the four great witches and wizards who founded our school. Each house has valuable traits and abilities to which each student is matched. During your time here, your house is like your family. Housemates share dormitories, common space and classes, and work together to earn house points throughout the year. This is a time-honoured Hogwarts tradition that I have no intention to alter.”

With a pronounced pause, Professor McGonagall now addressed the entire school.

“ _However._ There are many prejudices and conflicts that have arisen between the houses over the years, and some of them went as far as to play a part in our recent war. I believe some tragedies of the war might have been avoided, had the members of our houses been able to respect each other’s differences and join collectively as one united team of students.” Hermione suspected the professor was thinking reluctantly of her own forced decision to send Slytherin away from the battle, worried they would turn on their classmates.

“Beginning this year,” McGonagall continued, “All classes will promote inter-house pairings and groups for homework assignments, and many previously unused classrooms in the castle have been redesigned into study spaces and common rooms for the use of _all_ houses. I encourage students to sit at any house table they wish for the remainder of the school year, barring this evening’s feast and the Farewell Feast at the end of the year when the house cup is awarded.” Some angry muttering had arisen. Hermione was surprised to hear so much negativity coming from the Ravenclaw table.

“Finally, while these changes will not affect the House Championship, we have chosen to restructure the school Quidditch teams.” Shocked gasps ran throughout all four tables, and Hermione was annoyed to see Harry, Ginny, and Ron gape openly at this as well. She internally rolled her eyes. Would _Quidditch_ really be the breaking point?

Clearly Professor McGonagall collected all her charisma and Gryffindor courage to finish her speech. “Previously we had one Quidditch team per house, but to emphasize the importance of houses working together, Hogwarts will be hosting _six_ Quidditch teams this year. The teams will be organised by Madam Hooch next month and each team will consist of students from all four houses–”

The crowd finally erupted in protest. It seemed surviving the war made everyone louder about the violation of their privileges. Hermione desperately covered her ears to drown out the shouting, some of which came from Ron. Among most of the Hall he leapt to his feet yelling furiously that he’d never play Quidditch alongside Slytherins.

_We barely survived a war and they’re concerned about Quidditch?_

Hermione gritted her teeth and looked over at Harry to gauge his reaction. He too had a hand over his ear, specifically the one that was beside Ron, and he gazed desperately at Hermione. She recognized his silent plea for help; she suspected they were feeling the same way. While her old friend would’ve likewise hated playing Quidditch with Slytherins, the war changed him in a way many of their classmates couldn’t possibly understand. His attendance at the trials and funerals left a strong, stoic, considerate man where her skinny childhood friend used to be.

Hermione leaned over and reminded her friend, “You are _Harry Potter_.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and took a long breath. He didn’t always enjoy being the “Voice of the Wizarding World,” but he’d learned a lot in the past few months about how to make people listen.

Harry gripped Ron’s arm to make him sit and slowly rose to his feet. The Gryffindors noticed him standing silently and began to quiet down in surprise. Most of them had heard Harry speak during the summer at the funerals and trials. Neville sent a wave of _shush_ es down the table.

Finally, the chaos settled, and Harry raised his wand to his throat.

“I think you all know who I am. I’m not an authority figure, but I hope our Headmistress will allow me to speak on behalf of the students who fought at the Battle of Hogwarts.” Professor McGonagall inclined her head to Harry, and Hermione breathed in relief.

Harry stood in the aisle and faced the group of first years looking up at him in awe. “Seven years ago, I stood there like you, a first year. I was new to the wizarding world, and I didn’t know much about the houses yet. But I’d already been told that all Dark wizards come from Slytherin, and I was terrified of being put there myself. You can imagine how I felt when the Sorting Hat whispered to me that I would do very well in Slytherin.” A few people in the crowd made noises. Hermione heard some astounded gasps, and some derisive snorts.

Harry patiently waited a few seconds before continuing, “I ended up in Gryffindor because I asked the Hat _not_ to put me in Slytherin. At the time I was happy, but today I regret it, because I let other people’s prejudices make up my mind for me.” Ron blushed slightly; Hermione dryly hoped he regretted his earlier outburst.

“Don’t get me wrong; I’m proud to be a Gryffindor. I’ve met some amazing friends here, but I know I would’ve made good friends no matter what house I ended up in. Our house traits are valuable, but they’re not restrictive. I’ve met brave people from Hufflepuff, and smart people from Gryffindor, and cunning Ravenclaws, and loyal Slytherins.

“I know what most of you think about Slytherin, and it’s true that there’s evil wizards that came from that house. Voldemort himself came from Slytherin, and we fought this war because of him. But not all Slytherins are like him. In fact, we would’ve _lost_ the war if it weren’t for the other Slytherins.” Harry paused. The room was silent, listening.

“One former Slytherin spent years hiding his true loyalty to spy for our side, and he died passing me the information I needed to defeat Voldemort.” Scattered sounds of disbelief could be heard. Hermione noticed Professor McGonagall’s rather torn expression; she too was fooled by Snape’s true loyalty.

“Another former Slytherin lied directly to Voldemort’s face and told him I was dead,” Harry said firmly. “She saved my life.” Most of the Hall’s occupants were openly gaping at Harry now. Hermione heard Hagrid give a rather loud sniffle.

Harry wasn’t finished. “Our house is usually the one known for bravery, but the other houses proved last year that we’re not alone. Loads of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws stayed and fought with us during the Battle, Professor Slughorn duelled Voldemort _personally_ , and two Slytherin students risked their lives to save my best friend that day. Most of us wouldn’t be sitting here right now without _all_ our houses.” Confused whispers surrounded Hermione, who felt her cheeks grow warm. She snuck a glance at said Slytherins, who studied their plates bashfully. She turned back and spotted tears in Ginny’s eyes.

Harry’s voice started shaking slightly as he pressed on. “I’m glad our Headmistress is following Albus Dumbledore’s example and holding this school together. It probably would’ve been easy to just throw out all the Slytherins and only have three houses from now on, but the easy way isn’t usually the _right_ way. Last year, we fought a war. We– we sacrificed our loved ones. We fought against prejudice, against _hate_ … and it wasn’t easy, but it was _right_. We fought together, and we can do it again. We have a choice now: we can choose to stand together to keep fighting for the right way.” Harry concluded as he lowered his wand with a shaking hand.

Hermione exchanged a tiny glance with Ron through her proud tears and they leapt to their feet simultaneously to take Harry’s hands. Immediately, Neville followed suit, with Ginny right behind. The loud scrape of chairs being pushed back could be heard throughout the Great Hall as students across all four tables stood up with Harry and someone began a round of thunderous applause. Hagrid tried to clap but had to keep stopping to wipe his eyes on the tablecloth.

The staff didn’t rise to their feet, but they also brought their hands together in applause. The two new professors had watched Harry curiously throughout the speech. Hermione saw Malfoy and Zabini bravely rise among the small group of standing Slytherins, but many at their table – and some from other tables – remained stubbornly seated.

Professor McGonagall called for the noise to die down while she discreetly wiped a tear from her eye.

*** *** ***

Draco was beginning to think nothing would ever surprise him about Harry Potter.

The bloke literally rose from the dead, saved Draco from incarceration and even handed him back his own wand without question after his trial ended. Perhaps the dark-haired boy would’ve made a good Slytherin after all, even though that speech was a show of bravery outside the comfort zone of any Slytherin.

When he and Blaise boldly stood up in support, Draco shot deadly glares to every Slytherin that didn’t follow the example which, sadly, was nearly half the table. He wasn’t surprised that Pansy was one of many who remained seated with her arms folded tightly in anger. The stubborn witch resented Draco for breaking up with her and spent the last year acting the way she thought he’d want. She didn’t recognize that he was a different wizard from the sixteen-year-old that dated her.

“I am very grateful for Mr. Potter’s support here today, and I encourage each and every one of you to reconsider your opinions about this year’s changes.” Professor McGonagall shook off her lingering emotions and was promptly all business. “Filius, please bring the Sorting Hat forward?”

The Sorting Hat was placed on its stool in front of the first years and it opened its torn mouth to sing:

_Welcome one, welcome all!_

_To Hogwarts you have come_

_To train your youthful minds, and thus_

_The school is now your home._

_The Sorting Hat I am, you know,_

_And split you up, I must._

_A daunting task though it may seem,_

_But in me, you can trust!_

_To Gryffindor I may send you,_

_Brave at heart are they._

_To Slytherin the cunning go,_

_They’ll help you on your way._

_To Ravenclaw, the clever ones,_

_They value knowledge best._

_To Hufflepuff, the loyal souls,_

_True kindness is the test._

_Though all of you I split again,_

_Like many times before,_

_But this year something looms ahead,_

_True terrors are in store!_

_The brave and cunning both will face_

_Great strife as danger looms._

_The clever and the loyal both_

_Cannot escape this doom._

_Stand together now we must,_

_Or all shall fade away._

_A team of Light we must create,_

_Or Dark will seize the day!_

_Though long-foretold Darkness now_

_Is peering ‘round the bend._

_Fear Not! the pure soul in her care_

_Brings Darkness to its end._

The Sorting Hat’s song was normally met with loud applause, but the inhabitants of the Hall were stunned, and only sparse applause was heard among the silence. Hermione stared openly at the Hat, and she wasn’t the only one. Grateful for her good memory, she ran over the words in her head as Professor Flitwick started to call the first years to the stool.

“That was dodgy, right?” Ron hissed. “How can a hat predict danger?”

“The Hat’s imbued with magic over a thousand years old, Ron,” Ginny countered. “It probably knows things we can’t understand.”

“But we defeated Voldemort,” Neville whispered. “How could _more_ darkness be coming?”

*** *** ***

The remainder of the feast was somewhat sombre. Some students quickly forgot about the Hat’s warning and began to happily recount their summer activities to each other, although many of the older students were quiet. House unity troubles or not, nobody wanted another war. Hermione kept glancing along the staff table to see if any of the teachers had visible reactions to the song. They were also rather quiet.

Professor McGonagall called everyone’s attention once again as they scraped the last of the pudding off their plates. “I now ask our prefects to escort the newest students to their dormitories. Any students who have come to repeat their seventh year, kindly remain behind for several additional announcements. Good night to you all.”

Harry squeezed Ginny’s hand as she left the Hall and he led the returning Gryffindors – Neville, Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Parvati – up to the front of the room where Professor McGonagall waved them. Hermione noted Malfoy murmuring with another Slytherin boy as they followed suit. Not for the first time, she was annoyed at how well the Slytherins learned to hide their emotions. She couldn’t tell if any of them were nervous about the Hat’s warning, potentially angry about the new rules, or if they were simply bored.

The chattering students in the room had departed and the older students who remained quietly faced the teachers. Hermione did a mental headcount among her peers; there were nineteen others, and she was grateful to see that all but Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode had stood up with Harry.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and addressed them. “Mr. Potter, I wish to thank you for speaking up as you did earlier, and to thank the rest of you for showing your support.” Harry merely nodded, and Hermione squeezed his hand. She noticed some red in his cheeks.

“I’m addressing you all because you are in a unique situation. This year is being offered as a bonus since you didn’t have the opportunity to complete your studies last term, and not all of you were prepared to take NEWTs at this time. I am pleased to recognize all of you as adults, and as such, I’ll allow you to bend our standard school rules within reason, despite previous disregard thereof.” She raised half an eyebrow at Harry and Ron, who couldn’t hide their grins.

“I expect each of you to attend your classes, to remain safely within our protective enchantments, to respect your professors, and to provide good examples to the younger students. So long as you follow these simple guidelines, no curfews will be imposed on you, you are free to access the Restricted Section of the library with no written permission, and you may Floo or Apparate out of Hogsmeade on weekends, provided you return to the castle in time for Monday lessons.”

Most of the students’ sombre moods visibly improved. Hermione suspected they were pleased at the removal of curfew, but she was thinking happily of unlimited access to the Restricted Section.

“Now, you all are fully aware – some more than others – of the events that transpired in this castle last year. _All_ our houses were affected, and I repeat: uniting among ourselves now is more important than ever. I’ve already outlined several changes to the school regarding house unity, and I must impede upon you, my oldest students, to adhere to these _without_ complaint. I’ve not been ignorant of conflict among you from years past–” Ron and Malfoy deliberately avoided looking at each other “–but I believe, after everything we fought for, we can overcome these petty differences. I do not expect every one of you to become friends; I simply expect you to behave appropriately and to set a prime example of co-operation for our younger students. Sleep well, now.”

Ron opened his mouth, but Hermione grabbed his wrist and shook her head minutely. Ron looked at her in confusion as she pulled him to follow the other students out of the Great Hall.

“She didn’t say anything about the Hat,” Ron hissed under his breath. Harry mouthed, _Later_.

Ginny waited in the Entrance Hall for them, and she was beside herself with jealousy.

“You guys don’t have curfew?” she complained as the older students stood around the Entrance Hall to murmur together. “Me and Luna fought in the war, we’re adults just as much as you lot.” Hermione saw Malfoy glance over at them from the corner of her eye. He seemed to be thinking about moving in their direction, but Blaise called his name and he turned sharply to follow the other Slytherins to the dungeons.

“McGonagall has to draw the line somewhere,” Hermione answered wisely. “It’s easier to grant special rules to everyone who returned as opposed to figuring out individually whether each student was a war hero.”

“Well, I don’t know that they should’ve let the Slytherins back at all,” announced Zacharias Smith, who leaned in to join the conversation. “Malfoy was the one who let Death Eaters in, he practically _mastered_ the Cruciatus Curse, plus You-Know-Who was actually living in his house!”

“I believe Harry already covered this,” Hermione snapped before her friends could say anything. “I’ll have you know we were _in_ that house, and Malfoy stopped them from torturing me into insanity! He also battled Death Eaters here with us on the last night–”

“The Slytherins were perfectly happy torturing younger students last year,” Seamus argued.

“They had no choice,” Ginny answered quietly. “Besides, Crabbe and Goyle were the worst, and they’re gone–”

“ _We_ fought back!” Seamus countered. “We took the beatings for the younger students, we re-formed the DA, and the Slytherins just sat back and did what they were told!” there were supportive nods around the group.

“And did it make a difference?” Hermione shot back. She didn’t like arguing with her fellow Gryffindors, but she was firm. “The Slytherins were scared, and you can’t fault them for protecting themselves! Besides, it’s not like it was _their_ idea to start torturing students; Draco and Blaise didn’t want to, they were forced to go along with–”

“ _Draco_ and _Blaise?_ Exactly how long were you alone in that house with Malfoy?” Zacharias Smith demanded loudly. There were suspicious murmurs travelling the Entrance Hall now and a few people muttered behind their hands as they looked at Hermione.

Hermione took two steps forward, her cheeks flaring with rage. “First of all, my personal life is nobody’s business, and don’t you _dare_ presume otherwise! Secondly, I happen to agree with McGonagall – and Harry – that we need to forget this house prejudice rubbish and just be grateful that we came out _alive_ on the other side of the war! And thirdly, _Smith_ …” Hermione took another threatening step towards the tall Hufflepuff, who looked nervous. “There were eyewitnesses who saw you bounding over the younger students to evacuate first before the Battle because you were too cowardly to stay and fight! So how _dare you_ judge anyone who did, Slytherin or not!”

The Entrance Hall was silent. Hermione didn’t realize how loud she’d been talking until she finished. She promptly turned and marched to the marble staircase, ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes on her. She’d had quite enough.

*** *** ***


	2. Of Charms and Curses

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 2: Of Charms and Curses**

Over the summer at the Burrow Hermione found herself alone in a room with Ron several times with thoughts of her old feelings for him. The post-war depression and bliss alike caused new couples to appear all over the place – Percy started seeing someone only two weeks into his new job at the Ministry – and Hermione was nervous about jumping into a relationship without being sure.

In the weeks following the war, her nightmares still plagued her. Hermione refused to encroach on Harry’s time with Ginny, so she went to Ron several times to shyly ask him to help her fall asleep. She steered clear of the torture, blood, and pain in her dreams when Ron’s gentle fingers threaded through her hair as she drifted off, but she worried he might be misunderstanding her intentions. After a while she admitted she could sleep alone once again – hoping he wouldn’t be hurt or feel unwanted – and to her surprise he gave her a happy hug of congratulations.

Ron wasn’t the only one who began showing more physical affection after the war – especially after the month of funerals. Everyone from Arthur to Ginny to Neville had promptly normalized hugging and reaching out to loved ones without question. Hermione quickly learned that she felt no different being hugged or teased by Ron than by Charlie or George or Harry, and the way Ron hugged Ginny or even his mother didn’t vary from his affection to her, either.

But there was someone in her memory whose physical contact felt quite different to Hermione – not like family at all – and she couldn’t deny how much she missed it.

*** *** ***

Predictably, Harry’s hero status only increased after the Battle. While most of Gryffindor refrained from asking too many questions and mostly offered him grateful smiles or compliments on his speech at the Welcoming Feast, he barely exited the portrait hole before he was flooded with questions, praises, and awkward looks from the rest of the school.

Ginny’s tight grip on Harry’s hand and her tendency to raise her eyebrows at approaching strangers kept a large amount of unwanted attention away, for which Harry was grateful. He’d already established that he had no desire to discuss the war further. However, when a few younger students approached him shyly for autographs, he nonverbally agreed with Ginny that some exceptions could be made, and quietly indulged the starstruck first and second years. Ron and Hermione were also approached for autographs by several younger students, which they politely obliged, but all three of them were also suddenly subjected to excessive amounts of flirting.

Ginny was extra careful of every witch – and some wizards – over fourteen who approached Harry. Romilda Vane quickly learned to retreat against the wall when she saw Ginny coming past with Harry so she wouldn’t accidently get too close and incur the infamous wrath of the redhead. Harry didn’t mind his girlfriend’s handling of the situation; he never got used to extra attention from females and now understood how Viktor Krum felt four years ago. Hermione’s deathly glare and quick tendency to draw her wand was more than enough to warn most unwanted males away and the flirting quickly desisted. Meanwhile, Ron got nearly as much public interest as Harry. Perhaps it was because Ron was single, or perhaps it was because the redhead didn’t openly spurn the attention.

Ron walked a little taller each time a pretty witch sent him a wink or smile. Ginny and Hermione were very quick to give him warning looks when some girls tried to take things too far – though Harry quite enjoyed himself and allowed the situations to play out until his friend literally ran away from a few over-persistent girls. Slowly, Ron learned how to say no to people he genuinely wasn’t interested in, thought his slight bumbling and initial inability to deny advances meant that he now had about four dates for the first Hogsmeade weekend and couldn’t remember with whom.

Over Monday breakfast Ron was quick to bring up the warning uttered by the Sorting Hat, perhaps to distract himself from his newly-onset witch dilemma. “It’s dodgy, right? The Hat warned us once about the houses getting along and look where that got us.” Harry nodded in agreement, thinking silently.

Ginny frowned. “It was so _vague_ , though … how’re we supposed to know what the bloody thing was talking about? Some prattle about darkness coming doesn’t really tell us what we need to do–”

“I suppose taking Defence Against the Dark Arts wouldn’t be a terrible idea,” Hermione briskly pointed out as she examined her timetable. Harry chuckled at her.

“Well, what was the last thing it said? Something about a soul that saves us all …?” Ron’s voice faded out as he screwed up his nose thoughtfully.

“Better than a soul that’ll destroy us all,” Harry mumbled under his breath. Hermione shook the memory of horcruxes out of her mind.

“If there is indeed a pure soul that will save us from Darkness, then I expect there’s a reference somewhere, since the Hat said this was long-foretold,” she said firmly, ever the voice of reason.

Ginny looked at her with a grin. “Naturally, you’d remember the words. Will you write it down for us?” Hermione glared at her friends who were wearing similar grins. She huffed irritably.

“Since you all assume _I’m_ the only one that pays attention, I’ll copy it down so you can allow me to focus on actually getting my NEWTs, but _do not_ expect me to do this for every class. It’s high time you all took your own notes.” Hermione yanked out a spare piece of parchment and began to copy out the Hat’s warning.

“Aw, but Hermione, would we really be your friends if we didn’t expect you to be the smartest one of us all?” Ron asked sweetly. Ginny promptly hid her face behind a goblet of juice and Harry coughed innocently. Hermione pursed her lips and thrust the parchment towards Ron.

“If you wish to research the song, go ahead, but I’ve better things to do right now. We already defeated a great darkness; I highly think it’s someone else’s turn.” Hermione returned to her timetable and began mentally planning every precious moment of her day.

*** *** ***

Hermione was surprised to see the Slytherins in their Charms class; they’d never shared Charms before. She supposed Professor McGonagall restructured the classes for the oldest students to promote inter-house co-operation.

She decided to do her part; she grabbed Ron’s hand and dragged him towards the middle of the room, instead of the far left where they usually sat, and took a seat beside Blaise Zabini. Ron raised an eyebrow at her, which she ignored.

“How was your summer?” she asked the dark wizard politely.

“Fairly quiet but pleasant,” Blaise answered smoothly. “And yours?”

“Quite busy actually. We spent some time helping with the reconstruction here, and then worked on the Weasley home. Draco?” Hermione leaned around Blaise to address the blond, who jumped slightly.

“I … fine.”

“I kept Draco and his mum company at the Manor,” Blaise said. “They desperately needed someone with good taste to help redecorate. That place had far too much grey.” Malfoy scowled and Hermione went pink.

“Oh yes, I forgot you were … I mean, that you couldn’t …”

“Yes, I was under house arrest.” Malfoy said shortly. “It’s not a big deal, Granger.” Thankfully, Professor Flitwick took that moment to call the class to attention.

“Last year, you all studied nonverbal spells,” Professor Flitwick began in his squeaky voice. “In order to obtain an Outstanding on your Charms NEWT, you will need to demonstrate a variety of nonverbal charms, and at least one wandless charm.” Ron’s groan wasn’t alone. Most of the class had trouble with nonverbal spells; wandless was an entirely different matter. Hermione glanced at Blaise, who returned a knowing grin. He should be fine since she’d helped him so much in the spring.

“You’ll find this to be difficult, but only at first,” Professor Flitwick squeaked. “As you know, nonverbal spells save time, but also protect you when used defensively. _Wandless_ magic is even more important; I’m sure some of you have encountered situations in which your wand was taken, misplaced, or simply out of reach.” Hermione saw Harry rubbing his temples. He knew all too well.

“This is why the most important wandless charm for you to learn is the Summoning Charm,” Professor Flitwick continued. “If your wand is taken or knocked from your hand, you must be able to Summon it back. But before we attempt wandless Summoning, we will revise nonverbal. Please attempt to Summon one of these to your hand without speaking.”

The tiny wizard gestured to the table in front of him, which held an array of feathers. Everyone silently pointed their wands at the fluffy pile, and surprised looks were aimed in the same direction as Hermione and Blaise simultaneously took hold of their feathers.

“Wonderful, wonderful!” Professor Flitwick praised. “Now, everyone else, please try once more.” Hermione smiled proudly when the next successful person was Harry. The veins at Ron’s temples strained as he concentrated. A final feather floated through the air and landed in the open hand of another Slytherin student with dark hair.

Professor Flitwick proceeded to divide the class into groups to practice. Hermione was assigned Ron and – to her great displeasure – Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode.

For the rest of the class, Hermione carefully avoided the Slytherin girls’ furious stares as she offered tips for wordless Summoning while holding the feather out in her palm. By the end of class, Ron managed to nonverbally make the feather fall from Hermione’s hand, which was a start. Ron had proven several times that he was much better at nonverbal spells under duress than in a classroom setting. The girls seemed to be entirely deaf to Hermione’s offered assistance and preferred to treat her as a statue with an outstretched hand.

When they finally filed out of the classroom, Hermione tried to catch Malfoy’s eye, but he was very determinedly ignoring her as he swept out of the room.

*** *** ***

Hermione’s first Arithmancy class was brutal; she didn’t remember the subject being so difficult. She mentally cursed herself for not bringing all her textbooks with her during the horcrux hunt; she’d wasted valuable hours when she could’ve been revising. The fact that they expected not to live out the year _really_ interfered with her studies, she thought irritably.

Later she took a seat in Ancient Runes and was pleasantly surprised when Blaise slid in next to her. She’d forgotten he took Runes; he usually sequestered himself in the back row with the dark-haired Slytherin. _Nott,_ she reminded herself. She offered Blaise a small smile which he returned with a hearty grin. Having spent such a strange spring with Blaise and Draco had made Hermione fret about how they’d act around her this year. Though pleased that Blaise seemed to be able to slip into a casual friendship/acquaintance role, Malfoy’s silence made her feel guilty and paranoid. Did he regret what happened?

The Runes lesson was the first to require an inter-house partnership for a homework assignment. Hermione exchanged a shy glance with her seatmate, who cheerfully said he’d find her in the library the next evening as he stood to leave. When she met up with the others for dinner, she found Ron and Ginny discussing their first Muggle Studies lesson.

“It’s called a _telephone_ , Ron, not a fellytone–”

“But why wouldn’t they just go visit each other?” Ron was arguing. “Then you can actually see the person and you don’t have to just listen to their voice–

“Floo powder is a wizarding invention Ron–”

“I’m not talking about Floo powder, I mean you can just get in a car and fly – I mean, drive – over to the person’s house …”

“Many people don’t live within driving distance,” Hermione said primly as she sat down. “All your family is nearby now, Ron, but imagine if you didn’t have owl post, Portkeys, or Floo, how would your family have contacted Bill or Charlie after they left Britain?”

Ginny looked triumphant, but Ron was still confused. “Muggles send letters though, right? They have post, so why would they bother with the felly–”

“ _Telephone_.” Hermione said sternly. “Because you can reach someone on the telephone instantly rather than waiting days or weeks for post to arrive. Before the telephone was invented Muggles _did_ rely on post alone, but it was very slow and not always reliable, and the telephone allowed people to communicate more quickly.”

“Excellent, I can use that in my essay,” Ron immediately fumbled for a quill so he could copy down what Hermione said. Ginny rolled her eyes and asked Hermione about her afternoon.

“I’ve an Ancient Runes project with Blaise Zabini,” Hermione answered. “He was quite nice today.”

“He wasn’t too bad last year either,” Ginny replied. “Crabbe and Goyle were the worst Slytherins. Zabini stopped posing like an arrogant fashion model, and Malfoy mostly stopped insulting people. You were worried about those two though; has Malfoy talked to you yet?”

Hermione and Ginny had grown closer than ever during the summer, often lying in bed to talk even though they now had their own rooms at the Burrow. Ginny wanted every detail about Hermione being trapped in the “snake’s lair.” She threatened to curse both Slytherins with her strongest Bat-Bogey Hex if they dared lay a hand on her adoptive sister, but Hermione firmly maintained that the boys were gentlemen, albeit dedicated prison guards. She’d confided more details to Ginny than she had to Harry or Ron, but none of her friends knew she and their old enemy had shared a bed … or kissed.

“Malfoy’s being rather quiet,” Hermione answered before desperately changing topics. “Oh, I found out something fascinating. Professor Switch is the grandson of Emeric Switch, who wrote our Transfiguration textbooks.”

“Of course you would find that fascinating,” Ron teased. “Did you see the notice this morning? Switch is our new Head of house and he’s supposed to meet with us to talk about what we’re doing after Hogwarts. There’s a list of appointment times.”

“I’ve absolutely no idea what I want to do after Hogwarts,” Hermione groaned. Harry had just slid in next to her and shot her a look of surprise.

“I thought you had five or six career plans laid out already?”

“Well, that was _before_ the war,” she grumbled in response. “The Ministry is being completely restructured, new jobs exist that didn’t a year ago, and I’ve forgotten _everything_ about Arithmancy, so I’m not even sure if I’ll pass the NEWT, which could change everything–” The other three sniggered and Hermione glared.

“Hermione, it’s the first day back.” Harry reassured her with a playful tug at her curls. “We’ve all forgotten things; it’s gonna take some time. You’ll come out top of the year just like always.”

“Yep, and I’ll come in second!” Ron said enthusiastically. Ginny choked on her apple pie.

*** *** ***

Defence Against the Dark Arts started the next day. Hermione was glad to see Malfoy’s unmistakable head from a distance and wondered if he’d allow her to speak with him. He was studiously examining his fingernails, however, and didn’t look up when she came in the room. She sat next to Ron with a sigh that he missed.

Professor Gangrous was a tall, thin wizard with a low voice. His eyes were a rather dull shade of blue, and his long greying hair tied back by a string might’ve originally been brown. He didn’t seem to favour moving his feet; he stood perfectly centered at the front of the room with his hands behind his back as he introduced himself to the seventh years and only minutely turned his head to glance around the room while he spoke.

“As you all belong to the most advanced class at Hogwarts, I expect you’ve seen and experienced things far beyond that which can be taught in a classroom,” he said softly. “I daresay several of you have come to this class believing that you may not need to study Defence Against the Dark Arts again.

“Any of you who battled during the war could likely pass your NEWT today without additional preparation. However, I do not wish to train a class of students who can pass exams. I wish to train a class of students who can _defend_ themselves. Exams are useful but cannot replace the experience of encountering the Dark Arts in reality.” His thin frame was steady and still, his spine perfectly erect as though he were tied to an invisible lamppost. The students partially strained to hear as Professor Gangrous continued quietly.

“I warn you now that I am a practical teacher. I’ll teach you theories and counter-curses and all you need to pass your exams, but I also intend to instruct you in _practical_ Defence.” There were some scattered confused looks and some worried noises.

“I offer a simple warning now: should any of you be uncomfortable participating in a simulated duel or re-creation of a real-life situation requiring practical defensive magic, you may feel free to depart after the research and theory portion of each class has concluded. You will successfully pass your NEWT, but you may not gain all the experience necessary if another Dark war should begin in your lifetime. Please consider this wisely.” Hermione was sure if a quill dropped to the floor at that moment it would sound like an explosion in the silent room.

“We shall begin with a review of defensive theory. I would like for one of you tell me what exactly is meant by the phrase _Dark magic_.” Ron glanced sideways at Hermione in confusion when she didn’t raise her hand. She had a tiny smile on her face. She was curious to hear what the other students would say.

Seamus answered, “Dark magic refers to a spell or curse used by a Dark wizard.”

“Mr. …?”

“Finnigan.”

“Mr. Finnigan. Please stand for us.” Seamus stood. “Let us pretend for a moment that Mr. Finnigan is a Dark wizard. Please cast a spell. Anything that comes to mind.” Seamus seemed baffled but pulled out his wand and levitated his book off the table.

“Now, class, our Dark wizard here has used a Hover Charm. By Mr. Finnigan’s definition, this classifies a Hover Charm as Dark magic. Do you agree?” There was a clear murmur of disagreement and Seamus’ eyes opened wide.

“You may sit. I ask again, what exactly is meant by _Dark magic_?” Hermione finally raised her hand and the professor nodded to her.

“Dark magic is cast either with ill intent towards others or with no regard to the safety of others, most commonly to benefit the caster in some way. The general term _Dark magic_ cannot be applied to specific spells.”

“Miss …?”

“Granger, sir.”

“Miss Granger, would you give the class an example of a mis-named ‘Dark magic spell’ that might be used without ill intent?” Murmurs erupted around the classroom and the Slytherins looked confused.

“The Imperius Curse, though classified as Unforgivable, can be used with harmless intent,” Hermione answered easily. “For instance, wizarding law enforcement are permitted to use the Imperius Curse to stop a would-be criminal from taking dangerous action, perhaps by convincing the criminal to walk away or forcing them to surrender their wand.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. And … Mr. Potter, I presume? Please provide us with an opposite example. A so-called ‘Light magic spell’, that could be used for _Dark_ intent.”

“Er–” Harry began. “A Severing Charm?”

“Please explain.”

“Well … I usually use Severing Charms to just cut up potion ingredients. But if I wanted to, I could cut somebody’s finger off, right?”

“Precisely. Ten points for you as well. This may be the most important lesson you learn in my class: Light and Dark spells _do not_ _exist_. Light and Dark _intention_ exists, and it is the intention, not the spell, that makes a Light or Dark wizard. Are you a Dark wizard if your wand misfires and you hex a friend by mistake? Are you automatically a Light wizard if you’ve never used an Unforgivable Curse? If a Healer brews poison for study purposes but it is stolen and used on an innocent wizard, is the Healer a Dark Wizard because they brewed the poison in the first place? Consider the Killing Curse – the so-called _Darkest_ of all curses – could it be used for _Light_ intention? What if your loved one was fatally injured and suffering great pain? Would not the instant effect of the Killing Curse grant them a more peaceful death?”

The classroom was utterly silent. Ron gaped at the back of the head in front of him, and Draco felt that his brain had frozen. Harry did not forget that Dumbledore made this very choice; by having Snape kill him, he avoided a long, painful death from an unbreakable curse.

“Now, I will tell you again, I intend to create a learning atmosphere in this classroom. I intend to expose you to so-called _Dark_ magic so you can learn to recognize it. But, in this controlled classroom, there is no _Dark_ _intention_. If you are uncomfortable with this approach, you may feel free to leave.” Nobody dared to move.

“I’ll begin with Miss Granger’s example. My records indicate that a previous professor put each of you under the Imperius Curse for demonstration purposes, is that correct? A good example of an Unforgiveable Curse being used with good intention, wouldn’t you agree? Was anyone able to resist the curse?” Harry very slowly raised his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Potter. Please explain to the class how you managed this?”

*** *** ***

It was the strangest Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson they’d been to yet; as soon as the students were beyond earshot of the classroom, they were talking.

“You think the bloke moved his feet even once during the whole class?” Ron muttered. “I could’ve cast a Leg-Locker Curse on him, and we wouldn’t’ve noticed.”

“I think he’s got the right idea about Light and Dark,” Hermione mused. “Though I’m concerned about simulating duels in the classroom … it might be difficult for some of the students.”

“It makes sense though,” Harry pointed out. “Most people go their whole lives without needing to use Defence, but you never know when you’re gonna get thrown on the battlefield.”

“It’ll be good for most of us to face what happened,” Ginny piped up as she slipped her hand into Harry’s. “Loads of students were tortured last year and weren’t _allowed_ to defend themselves. Being able to practice will help a lot.”

“Yeah, better in the classroom I reckon,” Ron said. “Gangrous reminded me of Moody a little, how he was acting like he expected another war.”

“He reminded me of _you_ , Hermione, when you first talked about the DA.” Harry grinned at her. “You said theory wouldn’t be enough in the real world–”

“Actually Harry, you made the same argument when you mouthed off to Umbridge.” Hermione reminded him with her own grin.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that …”

*** *** ***

Though Hermione was desperate to get to the library during her free period, the others insisted she accompany them on a walk to explore the new inter-house common rooms around the school. Each room held a cheerful fire surrounded by squashy sofas and oak tables. All four house banners decorated the stone walls and shelves of parchment, quills, and reference books were stored around each room. A few scattered students had started using the rooms; mostly Hufflepuffs, although they did run into Luna and several other Ravenclaws on the fifth floor.

As they walked the corridors, the Gryffindors had an enjoyable time reminiscing about their reconstructive work from the summer.

“Ron, your Mum never noticed that extra crack you caused when you misfired your Obliteration Spell,” Hermione mused as she squinted at the third-floor wall.

“I was aiming for the spider,” Ron grumbled.

Despite Hermione’s habit of sequestering herself in the quiet back rows of the library, Blaise had no trouble finding her that evening for their research project. He was admittedly rusty, but she was pleased his level of commitment equated her own. They stayed later than necessary roaming the shelves of the Restricted Section discussing Runes and Arithmancy, which interested Blaise although he wasn’t studying it.

Hermione wondered if she could convince Malfoy through Blaise that she hoped to become friends with him too.

*** *** ***


	3. Of Runes and Rhymes

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 3: Of Runes and Rhymes**

Wednesday came, and Hermione was scheduled to meet Professor Switch for her career consultation. She begrudgingly wished she could meet with Professor McGonagall, but her former Head of house had much more important things to do. Hermione entered the office and Professor Switch stood from his desk, beaming at her. Hermione smiled tentatively, wondering if her reputation preceded her like Harry’s.

“Miss Granger, it is a pleasure! Please do sit down, I’m very anxious to speak with you, my dear.” Hermione took a seat and pulled out her timetable. The gentle-appearing, slightly overweight Professor Switch flipped through her school transcripts.

“Well my dear, despite your having spent last year away from school, I daresay you could take on just about any career you set your mind to!” The Professor’s voice boomed somewhat and lifted at the end of each sentence from excitement.

“I’m afraid that’s a bit of a troublesome thing in my case, Professor, as I’m no longer entirely sure what my next steps should be–”

“No career interests at all? Well, my dear, we must remedy that! Tell me, what subject do you enjoy studying the most?” Hermione paused to think, but the Professor suddenly waved his hands frantically. “No, no, no. I’m going about this all wrong. You, my dear, are not a typical student! You do not study in black and white, do you? You study in shades of grey, in mixed boxes, in combinations and cocktails!”

Hermione stared.

“Yes, my dear, I know your type! Not many of you come along in a generation, but let me ask you simply: Are you considered by your peers to be a very bright student?”

“I … yes.” Hermione admitted.

“Do you frequently find yourself making theoretical connections between your subjects of study?”

“Yes,”

“Yes! And of course, my dear, you dislike simple tasks, such as whipping up an easy potion, because you would much rather set your mind to something bigger, more challenging?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And the idea of working in a job where routine is common, people are dull, and there is nothing new to learn … that sounds like just about the worst possible career now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed fiercely.

“Do you enjoy Arithmancy? Ancient Runes?”

“I did, sir, but since I missed a year–”

“I do not forget you come into your seventh year with a gap but rest assured, my dear, your mind shall be filled! I believe I have the perfect career for you!” With a dramatic flourish, the happy professor pulled a leaflet from a stack and presented it to her: _Cursed Objects, Dark Relics, and Unconfirmed History: The Life of a Certified Curse-Breaker_. Hermione forgot to close her mouth as she stared at the leaflet.

“My dear, this is the path for you. Curse breakers are needed absolutely _everywhere_ ; you can travel the world, learn any language, translate runes, decode puzzles, and break Dark enchantments! No two curse-breaking experiences are alike, and you shall never be bored! Tell me, my dear, does this sound like something of interest to you?”

“I … yes. I think … this is absolutely perfect–”

“Well! Your marks need absolutely no upgrading, and as long as you intend to go through with your Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWTs – all of which I am absolutely positive you will pass with flying colours – you are all set, my dear!”

Hermione had never met a wizard quite like this. As he spoke, Professor Switch rapidly copied down the bulk of their conversation onto her transcripts, made various checkmarks on his accompanying list, and finished by shooting her a wink with one very bright blue eye. She left the classroom wondering if he modified a Step-Lively Potion to mimic Muggle steroids.

Leaflet tightly in hand, Hermione returned to the Gryffindor common room. Her friends looked up in surprise. “You’re back already? You were barely gone ten minutes.” Harry said, glancing at the clock.

“Professor Switch is … kind of intense. I barely even spoke but he handed me the _perfect_ career.” She handed over the leaflet. Ron leaned in to see.

“A curse-breaker? Hermione, that’s brilliant! You should owl Bill, you know they make loads of money–”

“I never cared about making money,” Hermione pointed out. “I just wanted to do something I enjoy that can make a difference.”

“This will,” Harry assured her. “You spent so much time tracking down horcruxes and researching Dark objects, I’m a little surprised we didn’t think of this for you sooner.”

“I … Wow. I never thought that horrible year would actually contribute to a career …”

“Maybe I should go into wizarding tent construction,” Ron joked.

Harry rolled his eyes at the redhead and focused on Hermione. “You gonna go for it?”

Hermione had already made up her mind. The last year hadn’t been exactly fun, but if she could spend her life continuing to protect people and battle darkness … she knew she would’ve made her parents proud.

*** *** ***

The busy Gryffindors began working on the Sorting Hat’s mystery warning the first Saturday of term. Hermione was desperate to get caught up on her Arithmancy by reviewing all her assignments from sixth year, but Ron wheedled her to join their research because she had _unparalleled intelligence_ , a phrase she suspected he took several hours to cook up.

Hermione briefly looked over the last stanzas from the Hat’s song that she’d scribbled and decided they would need the help of her Ancient Runes materials – she didn’t allude her ulterior motive to simultaneously work on her Runes research project. Thanks to the widespread inter-house common rooms, the trio didn’t have to search long to find a comfortable place to sit and look through Hermione’s endless texts and notes on legends written in runes.

“You’re sure this is gonna help?” Ron grumbled after an hour of rough translations.

“Ron, the Sorting Hat plainly stated a _long-foretold darkness,_ if you were paying attention. Since this is an old legend not covered in History of Magic, it will undoubtedly be runic in nature.”

“You sure it wasn’t covered in History of Magic?” Harry questioned with a yawn. “I doubt we’d remember even if it was.”

“I’m quite sure,” Hermione responded firmly. “Anyway, I already asked Professor Binns about the warning. I know we wanted to keep this to ourselves until we learned more, but I hardly expect him to remember the encounter, particularly since he addressed me as Ms. _Gruninger_ ,” she sniffed. “He stated quite plainly that History of Magic does not cover prophetic mystical _shadows_ and that he doesn’t believe the soul exists at all, so that was clearly a waste of time.”

“Brilliant ghost logic,” Harry chuckled.

“We _know_ the soul exists,” Ron pointed out. “You-Know-Who made us work bloody hard to kill all the pieces of his.”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “As much as I dislike Divination principles, the idea of the soul is rooted in several magical concepts that can actually be proven. The Patronus, for example, is said to be the manifestation of one’s soul when projected in defense, which is why it acts as a shield against Dementors, given that they feed on souls–”

“OK …” Harry cut off the rest of her lecture. He was holding a text of ancient scrolls he’d checked out of the library that afternoon – to Madam Pince’s great shock – and he cross-referenced Hermione’s copy of _Spellman’s Syllabary_. “So, we want to find runes for _soul,_ _doom_ , _pure,_ and _darkness_?”

“It’s a start, yes.” Hermione replied bluntly as she thumbed through the stack of tomes beside her. “I expect to find a reference in a legend of some kind, but possibly also a prophecy or warning.”

“Well I found an ancient warning, but unless it’s predicting _doom by pancakes_ it’s not gonna help,” Ron announced, shoving his own book towards Hermione. She sighed exasperatedly and took his incomplete translation.

“ _Pan_ is a prefix meaning ‘everywhere’ or ‘all things,’ Ronald. When paired with the rune for _cake_ – more commonly translated as _bread_ – it becomes a general term representing all food. This ancient warning is about the dangers of feeding a human diet to a pet Grindylow.” Harry snorted in laughter.

“I doubt that’ll help, but thanks anyway, Ron,” Harry said, grinning, as Ron snatched the parchment back from Hermione.

“I thought I had something earlier, but it was about the souls of the dead fighting darkness to become ghosts,” Hermione murmured to herself a few moments later. “I’m not entirely sure that relates to the Hat’s warning …”

“Ghosts aren’t really dangerous,” Ron pointed out as he reached into his bag for a Chocolate Frog. “They can’t touch people or use magic – not like we can, anyway. They only float through walls.”

“And get flushed down toilets … and breathe underwater,” Harry muttered to himself as he pushed his own translation towards Hermione with another yawn. “I’m rubbish at this Hermione, I dunno if I’ve got any of it right.”

“What words did you find?”

“ _Great Power_ , I think, and er– _pure soul?_ And the title says something about Mage … Elementus? Elementum?”

“The Magic Element?” Hermione guessed as she took the page.

“Hang on, _The Elemental Mage_?” Ron sat up, suddenly interested, and quickly swallowed the last of his Frog. “That’s a legend Mum used to read sometimes. I think it’s the only one that didn’t come from Beedle. It’s a poem, right? I remember thinking it was about Basilisks ‘cause it said something about a shadow of Hell with wrath in its eye …”

Harry just looked baffled while Hermione looked over his rough translation of the battered scroll. She filled in several words between Harry’s translations and turned the parchment to the other two. “Here’s the whole thing.”

_The Mage Elementum_

_(A legend of one with great power and the purest soul. She restores all Light and destroys Dark forevermore.)_

“Yeah, it’s talking about the same poem!” Ron said excitedly.

“I guess if the Hat thought a pure soul was supposed to destroy Darkness, it might’ve been talking about this Mage,” Harry said. “Ron, you said this was a children’s legend?”

“Yeah, I always liked the way it rhymed–”

“Well, that’s certainly fascinating,” Hermione quipped. “But why on earth are we considering a children’s fairy tale–?”

“You mean like _The Tale of Three Brothers?_ ” Harry grinned at her. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Most fairy tales can’t be taken literally; that one was a coincidence, Harry.”

“A coincidence that saved my life, Hermione,” he answered condescendingly. Ron laughed. Hermione narrowed her eyes, stubbornly unconvinced.

“C’mon, plenty of fairy tales are based on reality, that’s how stories get passed down,” Harry persisted. “Remember that kid’s song _Ring Around the Rosie_?” Ron raised an eyebrow, but Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

“I remember Mum telling me it was based on deaths from the Black Plague in the seventeenth century, and I stopped wanting to play the game,” she mused. “Alright, Harry, you’ve made your point. This text references the story but doesn’t go into detail. Ron, how much of this poem do you remember?”

“Not all of it,” Ron said thoughtfully. “The Mage was a great sorceress, and she saved the world from shadows and evil. She had helpers or guardians, and one’s her true love. I dunno if Mum had it written somewhere, but I don’t remember the story coming from a book and I don’t reckon she’s got it memorized since Ginny grew up.”

“I can ask Ginny,” Harry suggested.

“Very well, you two can research the fairy tale,” Hermione sighed. “In the meantime, I intend to continue with actual homework by reading actual reference material.” She pushed the translation back at Harry and buried herself behind a large volume while the boys grinned at each other.

*** *** ***

To her disappointment, Hermione didn’t have a chance to speak with Malfoy properly during their first few weeks. Blaise stuck to him like Velcro unless he was working with Hermione on their Runes project, but she couldn’t fail to notice that while Blaise offered her a regular nod at least, Malfoy preferred to pretend she didn’t exist at all. A Malfoy that ignored her was better than a Malfoy that bullied her, but she missed the truce-relationship they managed and felt cheated out of a friend. She tried to re-focus on her lessons and not waste time wondering whether she did something to bother him.

Pansy Parkinson flatly refused to work with Hermione again in Charms, so Professor Flitwick indulged her by transferring her to Harry’s group, which made the Slytherin girl nearly explode in anger. Hermione hid a smirk and gratefully worked with Ron, Neville, and Anthony Goldstein. Before the end of the second lesson, they all managed to nonverbally Summon the feather from Hermione’s hand, and the tiny professor eagerly let them progress to Summoning textbooks.

Defence Against the Dark Arts astounded students across all houses. Professor Gangrous was quite serious about practical demonstrations, and any time a spell or curse was mentioned in class he would promptly call on a student to cast it.

“One cannot learn to recognize a spell from a book alone. It must be SEEN. It must be FELT. You cannot counter a spell if you don’t know what it looks like!”

Hermione conjured a large cushion before Stunning Ron in front of the class – then again nonverbally at the Professor’s request, earning her twenty points for Gryffindor. Ginny demonstrated her powerful Reductor Curse by reducing a conjured chair into splinters. Harry led several people through casting Patronus Charms with a small grin.

Draco went very pale one class when he was asked to perform the Imperius Curse. Blaise quickly jumped to his feet to volunteer as his partner. It took three tries, but Draco successfully convinced Blaise to demonstrate his exercise routine. Blaise did thirty push-ups in rapid succession with one leg off the ground. Much of the class applauded, to which Blaise dramatically bowed, and Draco even managed to crack one of his old smirks.

The professor remained stiff and steady as classes progressed, but he became surprisingly lively when somebody performed a spell or curse incorrectly. When Padma Patil attempted to Petrify Terry Boot but coughed halfway through her incantation, Terry’s robes caught bright pink fire. After dousing his confused student, Professor Gangrous excitedly went on to explain that the unexpected could often provide a significant advantage.

Professor Switch was utterly thrilled to begin class with famous Harry Potter. His blue eyes reflected every candle as he veritably bounced around the room praising Harry, praising magic, and praising Transfiguration.

“Now, my dears, onto the lessons! This is your final year, and I believe you’ve all been waiting very patiently to continue with human Transfiguration.” There was a ripple of mild enthusiasm around the room. “Excellent! Now were this a standard lesson, I would be happy to split you into pairs and allow you to proceed, but advanced human Transfiguration is quite complex and can result in terrible, terrible mistakes!”

Hermione heard Ron chortle slightly at the jolly tone with which the professor uttered _terrible mistakes_.

“So, my dears, we will attempt the first spell in a one-to-one demonstration, thus allowing any mistakes to be observed by the remainder of the class. We begin, my dears, with notes!”

After twenty minutes of gruelling note taking about the Equinus Spell, which would give the recipient a horse’s tail, the class pulled the desks to the walls creating a clear space in the middle. Anxious to take notes, Hermione remained seated. Parvati attempted the spell first. Her wand flourish was slightly off, so Ron ended up with a heavy beaver tail, the weight of which promptly caused him to land hard on his rear.

Ron looked up irritably, not at Parvati but at the Slytherin girls, who were chortling behind their hands. Hermione was surprised to see the three Slytherin boys looking interestedly at the tail and even Malfoy wasn’t cracking a joke in Ron’s direction, but frowning in confusion as though trying to figure out what went wrong.

Professor Switch excitedly demonstrated the incorrect flourish again and explained why it didn’t work. Hermione took notes as the Slytherin boys did the same, but the girls were too busy giggling at Ron. _How on earth are the boys growing up faster than the girls?_

*** *** ***

One evening after meeting with several Hufflepuffs about a Transfiguration project and gruelling over her Arithmancy homework until she nearly passed out from exhaustion, Hermione left the library and gratefully dropped into a comfortable armchair in the Gryffindor common room next to Harry and Ron, who were arguing about whether Muggles really needed seat-warmers in their cars and whether the idea could be transposed to broomsticks.

“I do believe Arithmancy will be the death of me,” Hermione sighed as the boys finally gave up their argument. “It has gotten _much_ more difficult this year.”

“Naw, nothing our Hermione can’t handle,” Ron teased. He reached over and pulled on one of her curls. Too exhausted to protest, Hermione just smiled weakly at him.

“At least you don’t have to learn this Muggle stuff,” Ron said with a sigh. “Cars make sense, but I still don’t get the point of the telly thing.”

“It’s unfortunate that electronic devices don’t work correctly in Hogwarts,” Hermione mused. “Some of these things would be far easier to explain if people could actually _see_ them.” Harry nodded his agreement, but he was distracted by the noticeboard which held the schedule for the upcoming re-formation of the Quidditch teams.

“D’you think you’ll be a captain?” Hermione asked gently, knowing how much it would mean to her friend.

“I’m not sure,” Harry replied. “It looks like Madam Hooch is gonna do the tryouts and pick six captains based on the best players.”

Ron leaned in, interested. “Does that mean if I Keep well, I could be a captain?”

“Sure,” Harry replied. “But there’s no guarantee we’ll be on the same team anymore. They want at least one player from each house on every team.”

“I like it,” Hermione said determinedly. “Quidditch was a terrible fuel to add to the inter-house-rivalry fire.” The boys exchanged glances but knew better than to argue with her. The talking-to she gave to Zacharias Smith was still a hot topic around the school and Hermione’s tendency to snap at prejudice was almost as well-known as Ginny’s tendency to snap at anyone who got too close to Harry. There had been an incident the week before where a fifth year tried to slip Harry a love letter and was slipped some Nosebleed Nougat in response.

“What’s Ginny up to?” Ron asked to change the subject.

“Meeting up with Luna for Herbology homework,” Harry replied. “Oh, but she remembered that Mage legend you mentioned. She said Molly won’t remember it anymore, but Ginny wrote down some pieces.” Harry dug through his bag and handed the parchment to Hermione. “She wants to help solve the Hat’s riddle. I told her yes.” Harry blushed slightly and Ron and Hermione shared a knowing smirk. It was a bonus that Harry’s girlfriend was someone they already trusted implicitly.

Ron leaned over Hermione’s shoulder to read Ginny’s neat writing.

_Against her power the Darkness holds fast,_

_So afraid and alone, her soul will not last._

_Though powerful she, can much evil condone,_

_No chance to defeat_ (that great ugly) _shadow alone._

(Something …) _great thunder on her nineteenth year,_

_Her power awakens and causes much fear._

_A Darkness perceives_ (I can’t remember)

_It seeks to destroy the pure soul in her care._

(Sweet Merlin, isn’t that EXACTLY what the Sorting Hat said?!)

_This shadow of Hell causes all things to die,_

_Misfortune and chaos,_ (something about an eye?)

_Only united is a chance for defeat,_

_The demons or shadows, they cannot compete._

_Five Guardians, her soul, the magic combined,_

_She destroys all Darkness and leaves Light behind._

“Oh yeah, I remember this!” Ron said, excitedly. “There’s five Guardians who bond to the Mage to stabilize her power, because it’s so extreme she can’t control it on her own. Each of them represents an element–”

Hermione interrupted, “There are only four elements, Ronald, presuming we’re talking about alchemy and not the Periodic Table of Elements, in which case there are over a hundred.”

“Hang on,” Harry cut in. “I remember something about alchemy and elements …” He started rummaging through the notes he made during their previous research. Hermione continued studying the poem, wondering how much was missing from Ginny’s rough recollection.

“Here,” Harry handed Hermione a page of his notes. “There’s an old theory from alchemists back in the sixteenth century. Someone claimed there were actually _five_ elements, not four. It caused a huge stink in Britain–” Hermione skimmed his notes.

“You’re lucky I’ve been correcting your essays for six years, Harry Potter. Your penmanship is ever atrocious.” Harry rolled his eyes at her. “You’re correct, though. I vaguely remember reading about this myself at some point. An alchemist argued that the elements were earth, air, fire, water, and _energy_ , because without energy, none of the other elements would have magic. Although some claimed that energy and magic are the same thing.”

Ron mused, “I guess that makes sense. Didn’t we learn ages ago that every spell was originally formed with one of the elements? But without magic, there’s just regular water and fire …”

“Believe me, regular water and fire can do plenty of damage without magic,” Hermione pointed out. “But technically _nothing_ exists without energy, so I suppose this theory has merit.”

“OK, so back to the poem,” Harry said. “If this Mage has a great power, it would be nothing unless she could channel it through the elements, right? Maybe that’s why her power’s so extreme because magic without the elements is just … I dunno, like a great forcefield of unstable energy?”

Hermione felt her doubts about this story growing. “So, this Mage tethers her wild magic to five Guardians, who represent the five elements, and they wipe out Dark magic somehow?”

Ron played with his wand thoughtfully. “I suppose magic without a tether would be pretty dangerous. Imagine if we couldn’t use our wands to focus ours.”

“It’d be loads harder for our world to stay hidden, I reckon,” Harry mumbled as he thought of blowing up Aunt Marge.

Hermione sighed. She returned Harry’s notes and looked back at the partial poem. “I believe, as with much of rune study, this is intended to be read metaphorically. The Elemental Mage probably isn’t a person, more of a magical entity of some kind, and the elements are symbolic representations.”

Ron frowned. “Mum always read the story like a great sorceress saving the world. Plus, the poem says ‘ _she_ ’–”

“Yet as we know, fairy tales tend to be overdramatic,” Hermione said irritably. “The Deathly Hallows may have existed, but I don’t believe they were literally handed over by Death. And yes, a Mage with immeasurable power to defeat all darkness makes a nice children’s story, but it’s not possible for a single person to have so much power. Merlin knows Voldemort tried. Regardless, I don’t feel comfortable making any more assumptions without the entire poem, provided it’s _actually_ related to the Hat’s warning, which I doubt.”

“Perhaps we should check the library?” Ron suggested innocently. Hermione smacked his leg lazily.

“Very funny, Ronald. If the Hogwarts library stocked fairy tales, I would’ve seen _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ long before Dumbledore left it for me.”

“We could just ask a couple other people who grew up in wizarding households,” Harry pointed out. “It’s definitely not a Muggle story, but maybe Seamus’ mum or Neville’s gran knows it.”

Hermione sighed in defeat. “Very well, let’s ask around. Discreetly, though.”

Ron promptly stood and knocked over his chair. “I’m always discreet.”

*** *** ***


	4. Of Presents and Panic

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 4: Of Presents and Panic**

Hermione jolted awake with a start and realized she was insatiably thirsty. She noted the time; she’d only slept about an hour. She rose and retrieved a glass of water from the bathroom, downing it in several gulps.

She was refilling the glass when she heard the grandfather clock in the common room chime midnight.

Hermione’s hands suddenly went rigid. The glass fell from her hand and shattered against the sink. She tried to gasp but her lungs were frozen. Pain radiated from her core up her spine and into her head, where it seemed to shatter. She faced the mirror but couldn’t see anything beyond a blinding flash of light that seemed to shine from … herself?

Agonizing fire burned every inch of her body. A shock travelled back down her spine like lightning … across to every fingertip, down to the soles of her feet … she fell to her knees. Her kneecaps might’ve shattered on the stone floor, but she couldn’t tell.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

Painful jolts ignited her nerves at every junction like starbursts. The shocks had frozen her entire system from the inside out and she was aware of nothing but agony and blinding light.

*** *** ***

Something jarred Ginny awake from a sound sleep and a moment later she rushed into the bathroom to find her bushy-haired friend slumped motionless against the wall, unseeing eyes staring straight ahead.

Ginny yanked her wand from her pajama sleeve and fell to her knees. “Hermione?!” She frantically shook her friend’s arm and when nothing happened, she frantically whispered “ _Rennervate_.”

After a moment of desperate silence, Hermione managed a blink. Ginny let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and pulled the other girl up by the arm into a half-seated position, demanding, “ _What happened?_ Did you fall? Did you faint? Did you hit your head?”

Hermione suddenly leaned forward and retched. She gasped and coughed desperately, trying to recover air into her lungs. Ginny stumbled backwards out of the way and knocked the open door, causing it to bounce off the wall. The slam must’ve been loud, because the next moment Parvati flew in and gawked at the girls on the floor.

“Hermione, what _happened!?_ ” Ginny begged, breathless. Hermione turned to look at the redhead, still trying to catch her breath.

“I– I have … no idea.”

*** *** ***

“You’re off your rocker!”

Ron shook his head fiercely. “Underwright is a fantastic Chaser, and he’s gonna change everything for the Cannons this year!”

“Never gonna happen Ron, y’know the Cannons’ll fall last in the league no matter what, they’re practically cursed!”

“Yeah, but–”

“G’morning,” Hermione’s sleepy voice cut off Neville and Ron. They wordlessly agreed to put their argument on hold knowing how much Hermione despised Quidditch politics, especially at breakfast. She flung herself into a seat and reached for an apple.

“Oh, happy birthday Hermione!” Neville handed her an eagle’s feather quill charmed in purple and silver.

“Neville, this is lovely!” She carefully laid the quill next to her plate. Ron repeated the sentiment and handed her a small package. She began to unwrap it but was interrupted by Harry suddenly appearing and catching her in a backwards hug.

“Happy birthday, bookworm,” he murmured into her hair. She giggled and thanked him as she untangled herself from the surprise hug. Harry slipped a book onto her lap and she squealed with delight.

“ _A_ _History of Runic Curse-Breaking_ , this is absolutely perfect, Harry!” He hid his bashful smile behind a glass of pumpkin juice.

“Hey, what about mine?” Ron whined, and opened his arms expectantly. Hermione giggled again and quickly finished unwrapping Ron’s gift. A miniature crystal ball fell into her palm. Inside was a translucent otter swimming around in soft blue light. She threw herself into Ron’s awaiting hug and squeezed him tightly.

“It’s so beautiful!”

“Wow,” Harry commented, taking the ball carefully. “It’s her Patronus, right? Where’d you get this?”

Ron’s face blushed to match his hair as he patted Hermione on the head. “I found this spell a few weeks ago. You kinda trap the essence of someone’s Patronus so if they carry it as a charm it’ll protect them. It’s not as good as the real thing, but Flitwick said if you break the crystal and release the Patronus then it should protect you long enough to conjure a real one …”

They knew the Patronus Charm was one of the only spells Hermione had always found difficult. Touched that Ron took it upon himself to learn such a complicated bit of magic for her, she happily leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Ow!” Ron suddenly sprang back, and Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Were her lips too sharp?” Neville asked, confused. Ron had his hand over where Hermione kissed him.

“No, it’s OK–” Ron tried to reassure his friend, who had tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “It’s OK, Hermione, I promise– I think there was static cling, it felt like you shocked me a little. I’m good, really!” To prove it, he leaned in and kissed her cheek quickly. She breathed a quick sigh of relief and held in her tears.

“That was funny,” Harry mused. “I know she’s got a sharp tongue, but I never thought her lips–” Hermione made to smack him with her new book, and he dramatically held up his arms to defend himself as Ron and Neville laughed. Hermione brought herself to smile gratefully at her dark-haired friend for breaking the tension and the breakfast chatter continued.

She’d sworn Ginny and Parvati to secrecy after they managed to coax her back into bed last night on her extremely shaky legs. Touching Ron reminded her of the electric-like shocks running through her body; it felt too much like the Cruciatus Curse and she didn’t like it one bit.

*** *** ***

Ginny gave Hermione a delicate silver chain with an empty clasp that held her little Patronus crystal ball perfectly. She slipped it over her neck where it hung below her collarbone, reminiscent of her old Time-Turner. Ginny admitted the gift was a conspiracy, as Ron had to get her help sneaking into their dorm the week before. She’d levitated her brother up the charmed stairs while the other girls were asleep so Ron could cast the spell over Hermione to catch her Patronus in the crystal.

Mrs. Weasley had sent a box of homemade treats and a card for Hermione, wishing her a happy nineteenth birthday and telling her how lucky they were to know her. Arthur, Percy, Bill, Charlie, and George all added their greetings and signatures. Hermione felt so loved by her surrogate family and tried hard not to think of her parents today.

On the way to Ancient Runes, she nearly walked straight into Draco Malfoy as she was too busy gazing down at her swimming otter again. He stopped her by the shoulders, and she let out an _Oh_.

“Sorry Draco, I wasn’t paying attention,” he released her shoulders and shrugged.

“Happy birthday.”

She was surprised that he remembered; it had been months since they learned each other’s birthdays. “Thank you,” she replied softly. He glanced down at her new necklace.

“Is that a Patronus Essence?” She nodded in surprise. “My grandmother gave my grandfather her Patronus when they got married. It lingered after she died, and he kept wearing it to remember her.”

“What a lovely idea! It never occurred to me to share one’s Patronus in such a way. Ron told me this would potentially keep me safe, although I’m not sure there’s much merit to the notion; I’d like to research the spell.” Malfoy nodded once curtly with his eyes fixed on the playful otter. She wondered what else to say since he was finally acknowledging her existence.

He suddenly reached into his pocket and handed her a small piece of folded parchment. “This isn’t quite as lovely an idea, but it might amuse you all the same.”

She accepted it gratefully. “Thank you, you didn’t need to do anything for me.” Malfoy shrugged again and made an excuse about needing to get somewhere as he quickly departed around the corner.

*** *** ***

The Gryffindors had an enjoyable Transfiguration lesson during which they took turns nonverbally altering bits of each other’s appearance. Ron changed Hermione’s bushy hair to ginger, and Ginny took the opportunity to tease them that if they’d gotten together that’s what their daughter would look like. Harry responded by turning his own messy hair red with a teasing smirk, making Ron chortle and Ginny blush.

After the lesson they returned their appearances to normal and went to visit Hagrid. Halfway across the lawn they stopped in their tracks. A large oak appeared to have fallen and crashed through the roof of their friend’s hut. The group raced across the grounds, worriedly looking for Hagrid. Loud thumping sounds directed them behind the hut where Hagrid was picking up fallen trees and other debris from his garden.

“Hagrid, are you alright?”

“Fine, fine,” Hagrid grunted as he launched a particularly heavy sapling across the perimeter to the Forest. The protective enchantments sparked in the sunlight as the tree passed through them. “Tha’ storm las’ night were a real howler. Scared poor Fang practic’ly senseless.”

“Was anything permanently damaged?” Harry ventured, peering at the partially collapsed roof.

“Naw, nuthin’ I can’ take care of,” Hagrid reassured them. Ginny patted Hagrid on the arm and offered to help, which he begrudgingly accepted with a small smile. Hermione exchanged a grin with Ron. They all knew Hagrid was too proud to ask for magical assistance, but he had a soft spot for Ginny since she was one of the only students who visited last year.

The four moved around the garden banishing debris from the storm and sending small trees and broken branches back into the Forest. Hagrid trailed after them, straightening shrubs and chatting about the new enchantments around the school.

“Bin strange, y’know, passin’ through those things ev’ry time I need to go in the Forest,” Hagrid admitted. “They let me in an’ out, see, cuz o’ my mother’s blood. They hold back wizards alright, but half-humans can go through with jus’ a little sting here an’ there. Fang, o’ course, follows right behind an’ feels nuthin’. Bin makin’ extra trips these days to gather ‘erbs and whatnot fer Professor Sprout.”

Hermione levitated a broken branch off Hagrid’s rows of carrots and wondered aloud, “I wonder what kind of enchantments these are; they’re nothing I’m familiar with.”

“OK, show of hands, who’s surprised?” Ron called with his long hand high in the air.

Hagrid chuckled at Ron and turned to the annoyed brunette. “Was all Professor Flitwick and Professor Gangrous tha’ did it. Designed their own spells. They wanted the castle to still be visible, see, so it was diff’rent than regular enchan’ments that hide ever’thing. I know tha’ waterfall at the gate sure had me drippin’ … it’s odd now, havin’ to get soakin’ wet anytime I wanna go to the Three Broomsticks! But it’s givin’ me a real piece of mind, knowin’ the students're nice an' safe.” Hagrid sent fond smiles to his fellow landscapers.

“I’m quite glad for it,” Hermione said firmly. “The last thing the school needs right now is intruders.”

“Well certain’y Professor McGonagall’s thinkin’ the same way,” Hagrid said with a sudden look of concern on his face. “Just las’ week two wizards want’d through the gate, but they ‘ad no business and the Headmistress saw ‘em off straightaway.”

“Did you see who they were, Hagrid?” Harry asked in concern.

“Naw, just tha’ they was in robes with a big D an’ M on ‘em. They was goin’ on about somethin’ dangerous comin’. Just kept sayin’ they _needed_ _her_ an’ now if that ain’t dodgy, I dunno what is.” Ginny furrowed her brow thoughtfully, but the garden reconstruction pressed on.

After clearing the garden, Harry and Hermione levitated the fallen oak from the roof while Ginny and Ron magically reconstructed the beams and shingles. The rebuilding of Hogwarts and the Burrow over the summer had left the Weasleys particularly skilled. Ginny added some Weather-Proofing Charms to protect the roof from future storms and Ron quietly added a Flame-Retardant spell. Hagrid gruffly insisted they all stay for tea.

“Where’s Grawp now, Hagrid?” Ron asked warily as he dunked one of Hagrid’s cakes into his mug.

“Oh,” Hagrid sniffed sadly, and they all froze. “He’s a’right, but he didn’ like it here much really cuz the cave he had was small considerin’ what he was used ter. Ov’r the summer I helped ‘im get across th’ mountains and got ‘im all set up in a nice big cave. Gets cold, mind, come wint’r, but he got all th’ food he needs an’– I think he’s happy … I’ll go visit ‘im ‘round Christmas I s’pose …” Ginny patted Hagrid’s arm as he blew his nose.

“You did a good thing for him, Hagrid,” Hermione reassured firmly. “It was dangerous keeping him close to the school–”

“Yea, that it were,” Hagrid admitted. “Was nice tho, havin’ family so close …”

Harry reached for Hagrid’s other arm. “You’ve always got us, Hagrid. It’s not the same, but–” Harry didn’t get to finish his sentence because Hagrid caught him up in a bone-breaking hug. Ron coughed into his tea and Hermione felt her eyes tear up a little.

“Oh, Harry … an’ all you kids … yer the ones tha’ makes Hogwarts home. Woulda wanted ter die meself if anythin’ happened to yeh–” Harry patted Hagrid gently and the big man finally let him go. Harry cast a subtle charm to dry his now dripping wet shoulder.

“Blimey, nearly forgot!” Hagrid stood and shuffled across the cabin. He returned with a roughly-wrapped brown package. “Tha’ bloody storm put it righ’ outta me mind … Happy birthday Hermione!”

Hermione blushed. “Hagrid, you didn’t have to–”

“Nonsense,” he grunted.

Hermione opened the package and pulled out a polished-smooth stone, which fit snugly in her palm. “Hagrid, it’s beautiful!” Hermione breathed. The stone was obsidian black, flecked with tiny flakes of silver-grey quartz and smoothed into a nearly perfect oval.

“I foun’ that,” Hagrid admitted. “Found it ov’r the summer when I was comin’ back from seein’ Grawp. Lotsa stones get polish’d when th’ rain comes down the mountain, see, but this ‘un seemed to remind me o’ yeh fer some reason.”

She held it tightly in her palm and rose from her seat to kiss Hagrid on the cheek, causing him to turn a deep shade of red and promptly begin talking about his Thestral herd.

*** *** ***

Hermione was getting changed for bed before she remembered the folded parchment Malfoy had slipped her. She retrieved it from her pocket and unfolded it carefully.

The small note read,

_“Playful am I, but even though I seem sweet,_

_Deadly am I to the fish I must eat.”_

A small smile crept onto Hermione’s lips as she read the riddle. She glanced down at her Patronus Essence and murmured to herself, “an otter.”

Instantly, the parchment in her hand began to fold itself together like origami. With the tiniest folds and creases, it shaped itself into an otter just the size of Hermione’s pinky finger.

She gasped as the otter glowed for a moment and then hardened in her hand to become pure silver. She held the tiny figure for a moment, astonished that Malfoy of all people created such a beautiful piece of magic for her. Perhaps he wanted to be friends after all? She set it carefully on her bedside cabinet.

As she drifted off to sleep, she subconsciously realized the silver resembled his eyes.

*** *** ***

By the end of September, the residents of Gryffindor stopped looking over curiously as Harry and his friends continued to receive excessive post on a near-daily basis. Harry received regular fan mail – much of which was quickly discarded – but the extended Weasleys actively exchanged letters, news, and photos with all four of them. Andromeda sent Harry regular updates about Teddy, and George often sent Ron samples of new products he was testing with Lee. Ron learned to open his mail carefully after a bottle of Ink for Temporary Tattoos slipped and spilled all over his hands. He was left with purple splotches on his fingers for two weeks until the charm wore off.

Meanwhile, Harry had regular correspondence from the Ministry of Magic. At first, he asked Kingsley to simply provide him with updates about the Death Eater trials, but Kingsley considered Harry’s input so valuable he began actively encouraging other department heads to keep him abreast of the new and improved changes to the Ministry. Between Kingsley, Gawain Robards of the Auror Department, and Arthur and Percy Weasley, Harry had better information about the Ministry developments than the _Daily Prophet_.

Percy had been utterly ashamed of himself for past behaviour and apologized to Harry persistently over the summer months, but Percy’s bravery during the Battle made Harry more than willing to forgive him. The new Auror was just as active as Kingsley about making sure Harry got the latest news and actively sought his advice. Ron joked that Harry was going to be the next Dumbledore, but Harry often went red and reminded them that he only offered advice on things he understood, which was much less than the Ministry assumed. Several times a week he slipped his letters under the table to Hermione so she could help him compose appropriate replies.

Hermione corresponded with Charlie Weasley about his work with the Magical Creatures Department since she was still adamant about updating laws concerning house-elf rights. Charlie was very patient and accepted Hermione’s suggestions whenever possible, but he also sent her more reading material on house-elves than the Hogwarts library had available. She hadn’t known that domestic abuse cases aside, house-elves were generally treated in accordance with what they wanted from wizards and were not as uneducated as she’d guessed. Hermione was slowly coming around on the subject and even went down to the kitchens several times to ask the house-elves some carefully-worded questions with Ron closely in tow. He insisted he was being helpful but always left with pockets full of cream puffs regardless.

*** *** ***

Malfoy’s lovely gift contrasted with his persistent desire to ignore Hermione and it was baffling her. She tried several times to thank him but didn’t get a chance as he made excuses to leave rooms far too quickly.

Hermione sat across from Blaise in the library one afternoon as they completed their Runes project. Blaise was comparing their notes. “D’you think we translated this one correctly? I always get _remember_ and _memory_ mixed up–”

“Does Malfoy have a problem with me?” Hermione blurted. Blaise looked up at her in surprise. “I … sorry. Never mind. No, that rune means _forgetful_ , actually–”

“Why d’you think he has a problem with you?”

Hermione blushed darkly and fingered her purple quill. “It’s … he seems like he’s avoiding me, you know?

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “More than everyone else?”

“You think everyone else is avoiding me?”

“No,” Blaise chortled. “ _Draco’s_ avoiding everyone else. He talks to me and Theo and mostly stays away from everybody unless he’s stuck with them for a project. I think he just finds it easier.”

Hermione drew a blank. “Easier?”

Blaise slowly pushed the study materials away and rested his elbows on the table. “D’you know how the other students feel about Draco right now?”

She frowned. “Well, he isn’t the bully he used to be–”

“You’re right, but d’you think everyone else knows that?”

Hermione suddenly felt very stupid. “Of course, nobody wants to believe that he’s different! They expect him to spout off the same old Slytherin prejudices or start torturing people for fun … But anyone who looks at him twice would realize he’s not doing that; I mean even when Ron got that awful beaver tail, Draco didn’t laugh at him!”

“And what makes you think anyone apart from you is looking at Draco twice?”

Hermione went red again. “I– I wasn’t …”

“You sure about that?” he teased.

“I was concerned that he regretted saving me,” Hermione blurted. “It was such an awful risk; he was in so much danger, then he had to face trial, and spend time in house arrest–”

Blaise stared at her. “Granger, your logic is completely backwards. You think Draco would’ve had a better sentence if he _hadn’t_ saved you? If he let you die in there, he wouldn’t’ve fought at the Battle, Potter would’ve never stood up for him, and there’s a good chance he’d have gotten himself killed. Or convicted. Plus, he might’ve dragged _me_ down with him … saving you was probably the best decision he ever made.”

Hermione remained bright red. She was normally clever; why couldn’t she think straight when it came to Draco Malfoy? “So, are you enjoying Muggle Studies?” She asked Blaise desperately.

Blaise laughed and winked at her. “Y’know, I really am enjoying it. My mother is indifferent to dating Muggles versus wizards, so a few of my stepfathers over the years have been Muggles, or Muggle-born. I picked up some things from them, but I like having the Muggle world explained clearly in a classroom setting; it’s quite refreshing.”

“Oh … I see.”

He studied her subtly through his dark lashes. “Hm, maybe you can help me out, though. Most of the Ministry officials who teach the lessons are surprisingly unhelpful. To be frank, I know two of them for sure are pure-blood.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Hermione exclaimed. “The teachers for that class should understand Muggles first-hand! How else are they expected to communicate the importance of Muggle culture? I should write the Department; I believe it was Timothy Raggert who took over–”

Blaise sat patiently and let her continue her rant, thinking about how much fun this was going to be.

*** *** ***


	5. Of Positions and Prejudice

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 5: Of Positions and Prejudice**

Harry, Ginny, and Ron were so excited about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts that they barely noticed Hermione had taken to studying in the deepest corners of the Restricted Section where they couldn’t distract her. The endless sporting drivel drove her mad more than Arithmancy. She did promise to attend their tryouts – although she fully intended to bring her homework along.

The first Saturday in October dawned crisp and overcast with cool temperatures but no wind, which – Hermione was told four times – was perfect Quidditch weather. She headed up to the stands with Neville and Luna to watch the tryouts.

Most of the school seemed to float to the pitch in anticipation. Half were wrapped tightly in scarves and sitting closely together in the stands while the other half waited nervously on the field for Madam Hooch to arrive. The teacher seemed unsurprised by the turnout and promptly divided the students by position.

Harry and Malfoy stood with the small group gathered to try out for Seeker. Hermione was pleased to see their exchange of not-unfriendly nods. The group for Chaser was the largest, and they could just make out Ginny by her vivid hair. Ron was easily the tallest candidate for Keeper, and his confidence seemed to be much improved from the last two tryouts he attended.

Madam Hooch began calling out instructions as she released the Bludgers. The Beater candidates rose onto their brooms in groups of four and started knocking the balls heavily with their clubs. A few people were eliminated as they missed the Bludgers completely or misdirected them toward the waiting players on the ground. After two broken wrists, a minor concussion, and many shrill blows from Madam Hooch’s whistle, twelve Beaters remained on the field.

The Seekers were next. Harry and Malfoy flew the fastest thanks to their superior brooms, but they were both outmaneuvered by a much smaller, younger Ravenclaw student who zoomed around the others like a torpedo and grabbed the Snitch first. Luna seemed to know the boy and explained that he was an ideal Seeker because he was a _Misplace Merringer_ – a person with an uncanny knack for finding lost things. Regardless, Harry and Malfoy joined the boy among the six chosen Seekers.

Keepers were set up at the goalposts and the first group of Chasers were sent in. Ginny quickly had three Keepers eliminated, which were replaced by more candidates, and she wasted no time getting the Quaffle past two more. Ron held Ginny off since he’d learned most of her tricks over the summer, but an unfortunate misjudging of distance allowed another Chaser to slip the Quaffle by him. He still outperformed the other Keepers, and he blushed when he heard Hermione and Luna cheering for him loudly.

After many more blows of the whistle, eighteen Chasers and six Keepers remained on the field. Madam Hooch hand-picked a Keeper, Beater, Seeker, and three Chasers to be the captains of the new teams. Both Weasleys were chosen; Ginny beamed with pride and Ron blushed deeply when a group of Gryffindor fifth year girls called out loud congratulations from the stands.

The young Ravenclaw who had outflown the other Seekers was chosen as captain, and Hermione smiled proudly when Harry clapped the red-faced boy on the shoulder in congratulations. The boy’s shocked expression said he never expected to beat Harry Potter.

The captains began selecting the remainder of the students to play on their teams. Madam Hooch had to interfere quickly when no Slytherins were getting picked by captains from other houses. She reminded everyone loudly of the rule that _every_ house must be represented on the teams. The crowd in the stands had grown and there was obvious yelling and hissing in retort.

It took a long time, patient restructuring, and no small amount of arguing among the players, but by lunchtime the six teams were formed. Ginny had picked Harry for her Seeker – to nobody’s surprise – along with Demelza Robins and Anthony Goldstein as fellow Chasers, two Slytherin Beaters, and the Hufflepuff Keeper who’d played second best to Ron.

Ron’s team included Dean Thomas and two Hufflepuffs as Chasers, two Ravenclaw Beaters, and – to Hermione’s surprise – he’d willingly picked Malfoy to be his team’s Seeker. Hermione fretted over the inescapable rivalries and complications that would arise from Quidditch – which hadn’t been helped by the very loud prejudice voiced this morning – but perhaps with Ron and Draco on the same team some long-existing issues could be overcome.

*** *** ***

The weekend flew by quickly with a pleasant excursion to Hogsmeade, the obligatory completion of homework, and much discussion regarding the new Quidditch teams. Madam Hooch announced that the teams would be named after magical creatures, as they could no longer be named for houses. She allowed the captains to choose their own – barring her approval. Ron settled on “The Griffins” after his suggestion for “The Blast-Ended Skrewts” was denied.

Ginny wanted her team to be called “The Pygmy Puffs,” but the rest of her team – including Harry – threatened mutiny. She finally relented and selected “The Dragons.” Malfoy heard this and tried to get her to switch names with their team, because _there’s actually a Dragon ON this team, Weasley_ , but Ginny was firm.

Hermione was surprised at the number of Ravenclaws still loudly protesting the inter-house arrangements. Since they considered themselves the most intelligent students, they didn’t care to lower themselves to the sub-par standards of the other houses – though nobody ever said this with Hermione within earshot. As a small mercy, many older Ravenclaws – including Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, and Luna of course – were actively outspoken against the prejudice and worked quite well with the other houses, even the Slytherins. In Charms, even Pansy Parkinson didn’t seem to mind working with Anthony – although Hermione privately suspected this was because Anthony was single and quite handsome, which took priority over his house.

After most of the Charms class caught up with nonverbal Summoning, Professor Flitwick rearranged the teams for wandless Summoning. Pansy Parkinson did not hide her relief at being teamed with neither Harry nor Hermione but was clearly disappointed that Anthony was far across the room.

Malfoy, however, was on Hermione’s team, and he avoided her gaze more than ever. She patiently held his wand out as he tried to Summon it back. She wished so badly for him to succeed that she even deliberated levitating the wand in his direction and she had to bite her lip to remind herself this was _school,_ and he needed to learn.

When groups gathered to study in the mixed-house common rooms, it was becoming habit for Ravenclaws to pack up their belongings loudly and leave anytime a Slytherin student sat down. Some students like Harry and Neville called them out on their prejudice, and the habit started to cease anytime either of them was in the room. Hermione determinedly kept her friendships with Anthony, Luna, Blaise, Ernie, and others across the houses as public as possible to try and encourage others to follow her example. She steadfastly refused to co-operate with Zacharias Smith, but nobody believed this pertained to inter-house unity.

The weather got quite rainy toward the end of October, but Ginny kept Harry practicing religiously with the Dragons every third night. Ron and Draco Malfoy had several arguments during the Griffin team practices, but as no curses or punches had been thrown, Hermione considered this progress.

After a gruelling Arithmancy lecture one wet Friday, Hermione’s brain was overwhelmed. She all but crawled through the portrait hole and half-waved at Ron on the sofa, desperate to land in one of the soft armchairs in front of the fire.

“Wait, sit here.” Ron caught her gently by the wrist and pulled her down to the sofa, rather close even though there was plenty of room.

“Something wrong?” she inquired, confused.

“No, I just wanted you to– er, sit with me, I guess?” Hermione eyed him carefully. They had an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t try to date in favour of keeping their friendship a priority.

“It’s nothing really,” Ron stammered slightly. “It’s just the past couple days I’ve kinda missed you, and I feel a little better with you sitting right here, y’know? You’ve got classes away from us and you’re down in the library all the time …”

“That isn’t unusual–” Hermione started.

“I know. But after last year …” Ron took a breath.

 _Oh._ She relaxed. “Ron, it’s completely alright. We spent so much time with Harry, never out of each other’s line of sight, and then we got separated–”

“Yeah. I think I’m a little … worriedimgonnaloseyouagain,” Ron mumbled, picking imaginary lint from his robes.

Hermione smiled up at him and leaned into his side. “I’m not going anywhere. I was definitely anxious to let you and Harry out of my sight for a while too.”

“I’m not anxious,” Ron stated gruffly. But he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in closer. She squeezed his hand, then reached for her Arithmancy book. She started reading but didn’t leave his side and didn’t protest when his chin came down to rest on her head.

*** *** ***

It was late when Harry and Ginny came back to the common room soaking wet but pleased with themselves. “You might just be the star player of my team,” Ginny joked at her boyfriend. “After me, of course.”

“You’re definitely the star. I’m just lightning-fast,” Harry teased back, gesturing to his scar. Ginny laughed and kissed him.

“That was adorable, even though it was _SO_ lame.”

Ron looked over, irritated. “Are you sure you two know how to flirt? Hold it, I don’t wanna know.”

Hermione teasingly smacked his arm, smiling at the happy couple who ran upstairs to change. “Don’t be jealous, they’re happy!”

“M’not jealous,” he said gruffly. “I’m fine with them dating, I just reckon I don’t need to see all that snogging.” Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek, making him go red.

“Are you sure you’re not just missing it yourself?” she teased. Ron leaned down and stole a peck from her lips, then leaned back thoughtfully.

“Nope, still don’t like seeing my sister get kissed,” he said plainly. Hermione laughed at him and he grinned back.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, breathless, pulling a dry jumper over his head and rolling up the sleeves.

“Nothing,” Hermione and Ron answered together. Ginny came bounding down the girls’ staircase just in time for Harry to pull her onto his lap on the sofa next to Hermione.

“Now, now, you two have to get _some_ work done, don’t you?” Hermione said disapprovingly and the snuggling couple sighed at her.

“Quidditch practice _was_ work,” Ginny moaned, stretching her sore shoulder.

Harry kissed her shoulder, causing Ron to complain, “Cut that out mate.” Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother but moved off Harry’s lap to the next armchair.

“Well, _I’m_ pleased to see you two so happy,” Hermione murmured to Harry, patting his arm.

“Ow!”

Hermione leaped backwards from Harry and nearly fell into Ron’s lap.

“I … sorry, Hermione, that was weird.” Harry said, confused, examining his arm.

“What happened?” Ginny leaned over, concerned. “Did you hurt your arm at practice?”

“No … at least I don’t remember hurting it.”

“Are Hermione’s nails too long or something?” Ginny pressed. Ron seized Hermione’s hand and shook his head. Hermione stared at Harry’s unmarked arm, completely at a loss.

Harry noticed her expression and reached over to pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry I scared you, I promise I’m OK … see? Totally fine.”

Hermione forced a smile but didn’t say what she was thinking. If she kept having unpleasant flashbacks to the Cruciatus Curse every time she felt a static shock, she needed to stay away from people as much as possible. The flashbacks had a nasty habit of revisiting in the form of nightmares.

*** *** ***

Saturday morning Harry and Ron murmured quietly together over breakfast as Ginny came in to join them.

“No Hermione?” Ron asked, confused.

“Good morning to you too, dear brother.” Ginny simpered. “Hermione’s still sleeping.”

“That’s not like her,” Harry murmured to himself as he retrieved a letter embossed with the Ministry of Magic seal from his plate.

“Neville, what’s up?” Ginny looked across to their friend. Neville’s eyes were narrowed at his _Daily Prophet_.

“Something weird’s going on at Beauxbatons,” Neville answered. He slid closer to the others and read aloud from the article.

“ _Ongoing reports of students losing time … 16-year-old Henri Smythe was caught unconscious outside the entrance to the senior ladies’ quarters but claims to have no memory of being near the place … two wizards missing for a day discovered wandering outside at three in the morning with no recollection of leaving the Palace … 18-year-old Pierre Boudreaux suspended for attacking 19-year-old Emilie Fischer now facing expulsion; claims he meant her no harm despite nurse’s report of severe bruising around her wrists and a knife wound to her throat._ ”

“Oh my …” Ginny put her hand to her own throat and Ron looked concerned.

“It sounds like someone’s controlling the students … unless they’re all lying. How often d’you wake up with no memory of what happened? I mean even if you’re under the Imperius, you still remember everything, but it’s hazy–”

“Ron,” Harry hissed. He glanced at Ginny, who had gone pale. Ron cursed under his breath and switched chairs so he could pull his sister into his arms.

“He’s _gone_ , Ginny. Forever. He can’t control anybody anymore.” Ron tried to reassure her, but she was shaking.

Harry stroked her long hair and reminded her, “We saved you once before; reckon we couldn’t do it again?” Ron’s lips curled into a smirk and Ginny managed a choked laugh.

“I’m not worried for me this time,” she answered softly. “But if there’s someone else out there controlling students …”

“Hey, don’t worry, the Aurors are bored lately ‘cause there’s hardly any Death Eaters left to catch,” Neville offered in a half-teasing tone. “They’ll figure this out for sure! And nothing like that’s gonna happen here ‘cause Hogwarts is so locked down–”

Ginny leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder. “Of course, you’re all right, I’m just paranoid still.”

“That’s nothing new,” Neville pointed out, gesturing to his paper. “They’re still looking for people too scared to come out of hiding … There’re loads of Muggle-borns still pretending to be half-blood … It’s gonna take time for things to settle down. The number of Death Eater sightings has finally gone down, but for a while people reported seeing them _everywhere_.”

“Yeah, Percy said he’s finally stopped getting showered by owls every morning,” Harry confirmed.

Ginny teased her boyfriend that he talked to her brother more than she did as Ron leaned across to Neville to murmur, “keep us posted, eh?” Their friend nodded as he waved goodbye and left the Hall. Harry finally opened his mail. “What’s Kingsley say, Harry?”

“It’s not from Kingsley,” Harry said, brow furrowed as he perused the Ministry letterhead. “It’s from the Department of Mysteries; they know I inherited the Black estate. They want my permission to search the library for something.”

“Grimmauld Place didn’t have a library,” Ginny said, confused.

“Unless they cleared it out before we got there?” Ron pointed out. “They were using the place as Headquarters for a couple weeks before we started working at it.”

“Maybe,” Harry murmured. “I’ll have to tell them I can’t help.”

“How’s your arm, Harry?” Ginny gingerly poked him. Distracted, Harry studied his arm.

*** *** ***

Hermione finally dragged herself out of bed, shook off the nightmares, and mentally thanked Merlin it was Saturday. She maneuvered out of bed and slowly trudged towards the Great Hall. She heard her friends before they saw her.

“… not the first time that happened,” Ron was saying. “Remember when I gave her the birthday gift and she kissed me? It felt like a shock.”

“That’s what I felt too,” Harry admitted. “But it’s just static electricity, I’m sure of it.”

“Electricity is a Muggle thing,” Ron tried to argue. “I did two whole rolls of parchment on it – oh, morning, Hermione.” She slid into a seat beside Harry, careful to keep her distance so she wouldn’t touch him. Harry noticed immediately and frowned. He grabbed Hermione’s chair and dragged it closer.

“That’s enough,” he said firmly. “It was a weird thing, but it’s not gonna happen again.” He slipped his arm over her shoulder as proof.

“Alright,” Hermione sighed. “I just don’t like how it felt. It reminded me of …” she gulped.

“Nope,” Ron chided her. “It wasn’t a curse, Hermione, OK? It was just some mad shock thing.”

“You’re probably right,” Hermione sighed and started to pile her plate with bacon.

“Besides, shouldn’t we be totally used to weird stuff going on?” Ron pointed out cheerfully. “What year at Hogwarts has ever been normal for us?” Hermione managed a weak smile.

“Hm,” Harry mused. “Apart from the Sorting Hat’s warning, nothing weird has really happened, which is kinda … weird.” Ginny shot a narrowed glance at Hermione, who pursed her lips in warning, but Ron noticed.

“Ginny, what was that look?”

Ginny shuffled in her seat. “It’s … nothing.”

“I know that look,” Harry persisted, studying his girlfriend. “It’s the same look you give Professor Switch when he asks if you scheduled another Quidditch practice instead of working on your Rotation Spells.”

Ginny let out a breath and glanced at Hermione. Hermione stared at her fork but said nothing, which the other girl took as silent permission.

“Something else weird _did_ happen. One night last month I found Hermione on the bathroom floor in shock. She wasn’t breathing for a minute, she could barely stand, and Parvati and I had to help her get back to bed.” Harry and Ron were on their feet before Ginny finished.

“ _What?!_ ”

“How could you keep this from us?” Ron thundered. “What happened? Did somebody attack you?” Hermione angrily motioned for the boys to sit back down. People from the surrounding tables were staring.

“ _Nothing_ happened,” Hermione hissed. “I felt a … a pain or something. I had a nightmare about Bel– the Cruciatus Curse again, so my body probably reacted to it and it gave me a kind of shock. I was just surprised, so it made me fall … and I suppose I must’ve screamed as a reflex, otherwise Ginny wouldn’t even know about it. Really, it was nothing; I felt fine in the morning.”

“ _Another_ shock?” Ron asked loudly. Hermione rolled her eyes. Of _course_ he ignored the part where she felt fine.

“No, Hermione, you didn’t scream,” Ginny explained. “I ran to the bathroom when I heard you break a glass. I was already awake because the thunder was so loud it woke me up.”

“Oh, the night the storm knocked out Hagrid’s roof?” Ron remembered suddenly.

“Wait a second … that was her birthday.” Harry pulled out the _Mage Elementum_ poem Ginny had half-remembered and scanned the text. He read aloud, “… _great thunder on her nineteenth year?_ ”

The whole group stared at Hermione, who huffed in exhaustion and anger.

“That is an utterly ridiculous jump to conclusions. We live in Scotland, and it was _September_. Rainstorms are perfectly ordinary. Besides, this half-finished poem probably isn’t talking about a person at all, like I said. This has _nothing_ to do with the warning from the silly Hat, it’s just … static!” Hermione leapt to her feet and abandoned her breakfast before her friends could argue further.

*** *** ***

The trio was reluctant to talk about Hermione without her, but after a couple hours of quiet studying in one of the common rooms, Ron finally tossed down his book.

“OK, look,” Ron blurted. “The legend says the Elemental Mage is really powerful, right? That’s Hermione, isn’t it? Brightest witch of her age?”

“But Hermione wasn’t sure the Mage is actually a _person_ ,” Ginny reminded him. Ron frantically waved at Harry to hand over the poem once more.

“No, c’mon, look at this: The Mage has strong magic and a _pure soul_? Doesn’t that sound like Hermione to you?”

“I don’t know if she’s … er, pure.” Harry blushed and cringed slightly. “I can’t think about her like that.”

Ginny stifled a smile. “Well, she _is_ pure like that, if you must know.”

“OK, but even if Hermione _is_ some kind of Mage, how would the Sorting Hat know about it?” Harry asked quickly.

“The Hat took forever when it sorted Hermione, remember?” Ron said excitedly. “Fred and George said she and Neville almost broke history that year. They call some people _Hatstalls_ ‘cause it takes the Hat ages to place them in the right house, and it’s not that common. Like, remember it took Malfoy about two seconds? But Hermione sat there near four whole minutes – I always reckoned the Hat just wanted her in Ravenclaw and she argued with it.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Harry muttered.

“You think the Hat might’ve been reading deeper into her mind?” Ginny asked. “It sees everything, doesn’t it? Maybe it knew things she didn’t even know herself.”

“Sure felt like it knew everything when it was in my head,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead. “So then the Hat knew she was destined to have some magic power manifest the year she turned nineteen–?”

Hermione suddenly marched up beside them and slammed her large stack of books on the table. “Are you lot still babbling about that Mage poem nonsense?”

Harry gave her a pointed look. “Hermione, if this were about me, wouldn’t you and Ron be all over it?”

She wished she could argue with him.

“I don’t mind researching _facts_ or _theories_ , as you well know.” Hermione said stiffly. “But you lot are poring over pieces of some _fairy tale_ that could very well be misunderstood. This is far different from anything about Harry–”

“No, it isn’t.” Ron interrupted. “We’ve spent all kinds of time believing things and going off theories and rumors ‘cause it’s all we _had_. Remember the Chamber of Secrets? Just bloody words on a wall and you were all over Professor Binns to spill the legend, even though it was just a _legend_ , and you went on to break a hundred rules with us that year and spent a month brewing an illegal potion! You just wanna ignore this thing ‘cause you’re scared it’s about _you_.”

Harry and Ginny gaped at him. Ron had a well-known history of arguing with Hermione but was rarely so blunt with her anymore. Hermione, meanwhile, was proud of the redhead, despite herself. She looked at him carefully, and he stubbornly returned her gaze, waiting for her inevitable retort.

“This is just like Harry’s prophecy, and all the other Divination foreseeing nonsense!” Hermione finally exclaimed. “It’s easy to find connections in predictions because people go _looking_ for them! Well, I’m not about to become another paranoid tosser like Voldemort that gets their whole future thrown off-course thanks to a self-fulfilling prophecy, thank you very _much_.” Hermione lowered herself into a seat and promptly hid herself behind a book.

“You’re scared,” Ron insisted quietly. “You think we don’t notice you only get defensive and angry like this when you’re stressed out? This is classic _Hermione_.”

Hermione remained behind her book, but Ginny knew she wasn’t reading. “It’s alright,” she said softly. “We’re not asking you to blindly accept anything, we just want you to keep an open mind while we try to figure this out.”

_You can be scared. That’s okay._

Hermione fought her tears as she lowered her book.

“Yes, Ron, I am scared,” she said quietly. “I’m scared to fall for a trick or get myself too deep into something … If I jump to a wild conclusion, if this Mage legend is real, it means the Hat was right and something else is coming! We barely survived one war …” she paused, trying to keep her voice level. “And if this legend’s real and it’s about _me_ that means I’m the hero of the story. _Me!_ I can be the brains, but … but _Harry’s_ the hero …”

Harry reached for Hermione’s hand. “You know I was only a hero because of you, right? Without you and Ron I would’ve died when I was eleven. Voldemort would be controlling the continent by now. I know I was the _Chosen One_ and all that, but now if it’s really your turn …” Harry made sure Hermione was looking at him. “Don’t you think we’ll do the exact same thing for you?” Hermione’s tears spilled over, and she squeezed her brother’s hand. Ron grinned and squeezed her other hand.

“I don’t like this,” Hermione sniffled quietly. “I don’t like that we’re relying on this poem so much …”

“What did the Hat say, Hermione?” Ron reminded her, “ _the pure soul in her care brings Darkness to an end–_ ” Hermione nodded slowly.

Harry pointed to the poem: _“… seeks to destroy the pure soul in her care_ … _she destroys all darkness and leaves light behind_? I’d say that’s pretty specific.”

“This was translated from ancient runes,” Ginny said softly. “It’s a long-foretold darkness …”

“Fine, so the Hat was talking about this poem, this Elemental Mage,” Hermione said desperately. “But the very idea that it’s _me_ –”

Ginny sighed. “Hermione, the storm on your birthday …”

“No, Ginny, that’s mad. I’ve had rain on my birthday plenty of times, it’s quite common – and loads of people around here turn nineteen this year.”

“People with as much power as you?” Ron persisted with an eyebrow raised. Hermione buried her head in her arms and groaned.

Ginny leaned over. “Listen Hermione, we need to get a better copy of this poem. If it really is a prophecy or something, we need to know the whole thing. No need to jump to conclusions yet.” Hermione reluctantly raised her head and nodded.

“Hey, how ‘bout we do some _homework?_ ” Ron said cheerfully.

Finally, Hermione’s face cracked a genuine smile.

*** *** ***


	6. Of Shields and Stings

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 6: Of Shields and Stings**

Weeks passed and Hermione slowly forgot about the legend of the Elemental Mage. Arithmancy was harder than ever, but she belligerently pressed through and, naturally, stayed at the top of all her other lessons. Her Runes project with Blaise got them the top mark, and Professor Babbling wasted no time saying how impressed she was that the inter-house team projects had done so well.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Charms. After wandless Summoning was complete, Professor Flitwick insisted they progress to wandless Shield Charms, as they would be the most beneficial in a duel. Hermione wondered if he’d been planning his classes with Professor Gangrous, who’d begun having the students duel each other each lesson.

Hermione’s team for wandless Shield Charms consisted of Ron, Draco, and Pansy, who resisted complaining only because she gave Hermione a very wide berth and stayed within inches of Draco the entire class. Ron had so much practice with Shield Charms during the war that he managed it wandlessly on his third try, and Hermione was so proud she nearly ran headlong into the shield on her way to hug him.

Malfoy was patient but having trouble. He admitted under his breath that he wasn’t good at Shield Charms, and Hermione encouraged him to practice nonverbally before progressing to wandless. He gave her a half-smile that didn’t contain too much smirk. Pansy refused to practice with Hermione or Ron at all; she only allowed Malfoy to hex her. She managed to nearly deflect his spell just as Professor Flitwick came by, and he asked her to try again with Hermione.

Fuming, Pansy thrust her wand at Malfoy and faced Hermione, who sent a nonverbal Stinging Jinx. When the hex hit Pansy’s arm, leaving a red mark, she screeched at Hermione for doing it on purpose – Hermione spluttered that she was _supposed_ to jinx her – and Pansy didn’t quiet down until Malfoy firmly placed his hand on her arm and gave her a look reminiscent of his father.

Pansy batted her eyelashes at Malfoy and offered to help him with his shield again. Ron pulled an irritated Hermione away to help him practice his own. He deflected all her jinxes effectively, but eventually Professor Flitwick came back around to the group again. He provided a gentle reminder that working with other houses was required and asked Malfoy and Ron to demonstrate the charm.

Malfoy set down his wand and braced himself. Pansy leaned over and whispered something in his ear. His face turned into stone, and Hermione wondered if anyone else suspected his stony face was masking his anger.

The anger seemed to work in Malfoy’s favour; Ron’s Tickling Charm bounced off the wandless – and wordless – shield, much to everyone’s astonishment. Ron even offered Malfoy an impressed look as Professor Flitwick happily awarded points. Hermione was pleased, until Professor Flitwick gently tapped her arm to make her face Pansy once more.

Hermione sighed and set down her wand. It wasn’t difficult to deflect most jinxes, and she knew Pansy wasn’t the strongest spell-caster.

But it seemed she underestimated the Slytherin girl’s wrath. The red-faced witch hurled a shouted Stunning Spell at Hermione before she had a chance to prepare herself. The red beam of light travelled quickly, but Hermione seemed to see it in slow motion. She was astonished, not only because Pansy broke the rules by casting a dangerous spell instead of a minor hex, but because the girl used such power. Though conjuring a nonverbal Shield Charm still required mental formation of the spell, in Hermione’s astonishment she forgot it was necessary. She instinctively raised her palm towards Pansy thinking only of the desire to protect herself.

The spell hit Hermione’s hand and ricocheted with such force that it flew back at Pansy – who shrieked and ducked just in time – and collided with the wall, leaving a Quaffle-sized scorch mark on the stone.

Ron dropped his wand in shock. Malfoy stared open-mouthed at Hermione along with the rest of the class, except Pansy, who began screaming threats at the other witch until Professor Flitwick was required to Silence her.

“That will do, Miss Parkinson! Ten points from Slytherin for using an unauthorized spell on a fellow student! Miss Granger, that was quite impressive, I must say. Twenty points to Gryffindor for a job well done!” Flitwick dismissed the class and some students snatched up their bags and ran for the doors as quickly as possible.

Harry raced over and tried to shake Hermione out of her stupor. Her unmarked hand was still raised in front of her face. She stared at the scorched wall and heard nothing, including the stomping feet of the Silenced Pansy who dragged a very confused Malfoy out of the room by his sleeve. Ron shoved Hermione’s things into her bag and wordlessly handed them over, which she managed to take with shaking hands. She forced her feet to move and allowed the boys to lead her from the classroom.

*** *** ***

Ron disappeared to Quidditch practice after Charms and Harry went to meet Neville and some Hufflepuffs for a Transfiguration project, so to Hermione’s great relief neither of them had a chance to question her about the Shield Charm.

She sat by one of the library windows studying the lake and tried to understand what happened. How could she have cast a Shield Charm at all – much less the strongest shield she’d ever conjured – without even thinking of the spell?

Hermione watched light waves form on the lake as rain began to fall and wondered whether Ron and Malfoy were getting along on the pitch. Much like Harry, Ron’s relationship with their former nemesis was publicly civil, but still tense. Unfortunately, they both took Quidditch very seriously, and the fact that Ron was now Malfoy’s captain was probably a sore spot for the normally superior blond. Perhaps he would be angry …

Malfoy had been angry in class, and he deflected Ron’s hex for the first time; Pansy had been angry and produced a very powerful Stunning spell … Hermione shook her curly head and returned to her homework, determined that her Shield Charm, clearly, had also been a result of anger.

*** *** ***

Ron’s shoes made squishing noises as he trod back to Gryffindor Tower. He managed to avoid an argument with Malfoy today, but his Beaters had gotten into it with him and he was exhausted. Harry and Ginny were standing closely together outside the portrait hole and Ron debated dumping cold water over them before he realized they were just whispering quietly. They waved him over.

“I told Ginny what happened,” Harry muttered. “She thinks it’s proof.”

“You really think Hermione’s the Elemental Mage?” Ron whispered to his sister, who was pulling on her long hair.

“I suspected it as soon as I started remembering that story … Apart from Dumbledore himself, I don’t think we’ve ever known someone as powerful as Hermione, unless they were Dark. Remember that curse she used on Marietta Edgecombe after she betrayed the DA? It’s been three years and she’s _still_ got those pimples!”

“Plus, Hermione brewed Polyjuice when she was thirteen,” Ron pointed out. “Hardly anyone can beat her at duelling, she always masters spells first … Harry?”

Harry played with his frayed sleeve. “I don’t know yet,” he said slowly. “But I _do_ know that we can’t bring it up with her again. Whatever happened today scared her, and we know how she feels about prophecies and stuff …”

Ron nodded and Ginny looked at her shoes and mumbled. “ _I’m_ scared for her. If she is the Mage, the poem says she’s got great power but it’s unstable. What if she gets hurt?”

“I think today proved that nobody _can_ hurt her,” Ron pointed out. “But I get it. I haven’t wanted to leave her alone lately … is that weird?”

“No, that’s OK,” Harry replied. “I’m always worried when she’s off somewhere.”

Ginny looked up at her boyfriend. “Yeah?”

“Ginny, I’m not–” he broke off at Ginny’s teasing grin.

“Harry, relax. You two had to leave her behind once and you thought she was dead. I get it; you want to be there to protect her now. But we’re not at war anymore, and we’re at _Hogwarts_. There’s no danger here. Even the Slytherins are being nice, it’s kinda freaking me out.” The boys laughed.

“Let’s hope that lasts,” Ron chortled. “If Malfoy decides to start hating me again, we’re not gonna play very well on Saturday.”

*** *** ***

To Professor McGonagall’s great relief, the first mixed-house Quidditch match didn’t involve fighting among the players more than one would expect at a typical game. Ron’s Griffins, robed in yellow – which Ron frustratingly said made him look like a sunburned corncob – were playing against the Chimaeras, who were robed in green.

The Ravenclaw captain of the Chimaeras got into a loud argument with Ron over a scoring foul but otherwise the game proceeded amicably. Malfoy swooped under the nose of the other Seeker and stole the Snitch, securing the Griffins the first win of the season. Hermione applauded along with the others, noting that Malfoy played his position much better when he wasn’t desperately focused on outshining Harry. The proud grin he wore as he punched the air with the Snitch in his fist was the happiest she’d seen him since school started.

Hermione’s friends didn’t bring up the Charms incident from the week before, but everyone was reminded of it suddenly on Wednesday during Defence Against the Dark Arts.

The rigid, practical Professor Gangrous chose a pair of students to duel at the end of each class. He wanted them to practice defensive spells and shields, but also to demonstrate offensive spells, because _you cannot hope to defend yourself from a spell you’ve never seen._ Cushioning Charms were applied to the floor in case duellers Stunned each other, and the professor constantly reassured everyone that he was adept at medical spells, so he encouraged everyone not to hold back. Thankfully, a few demonstrations had proven that unlike Lockhart, this professor wasn’t exaggerating about his own skills.

There were still some spells and curses that certain students flatly refused to use or witness, which would lead into another of Professor Gangrous’ lectures about the importance of knowing what one was facing and being prepared accordingly, along with the usefulness of working with _non-Dark intention_. Most of the students remained for the practical portion of the class, although many began whispering about the Sorting Hat’s warning again since the professor was training them as though they were on the brink of another war. There was no shortage of the adage _constant vigilance_ murmured among old DA members. To Hermione’s great relief, the professor did not insist on demonstrating the Cruciatus Curse in class, even on a non-human as Moody had.

For the last duel on Wednesday, Professor Gangrous paired Hermione with Anthony Goldstein. The Ravenclaw boy was a good spellcaster but Hermione knew he still had trouble conjuring Shield Charms quickly. They began the duel with a bow, and they held their wands up combatively while Professor Gangrous cast the usual protective enchantments to keep their spells away from the observing students.

“Begin in three … two … one …”

Hermione immediately cast _Protego_ , knowing Anthony would cast an offensive spell quickly. His spell bounced and she quickly retaliated with a nonverbal jinx in his direction. He dodged it but slipped, causing his Stunning Spell to miss her entirely. Hermione sent another nonverbal spell his way and it collided with his curse. The backlash of magic from the colliding spells caused them both to drop their wands. Anthony scrambled for his, but Hermione left hers on the ground and quickly murmured a Stinging Jinx in his direction. He should receive a sharp sting on his hand thus forcing him to abandon his wand.

Instead of a minor shock, however, her wandless jinx hit Anthony’s wrist with enough force to send him hurtling backwards into the invisible wall surrounding them. Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth in horror as she watched Anthony’s arm swell and blister from his fingertips to his elbow as though he dipped it into a boiling cauldron.

Professor Gangrous immediately cancelled the protective enchantments and bent over Anthony, who stared in confusion at his blistering arm. After a few healing spells, the angry red skin began to calm and new, white skin slowly trickled from his elbow, covering the blisters.

Hermione very carefully took a step in his direction and retrieved his dropped wand. She handed it out to him with a shaking hand. “I … I’m so sorry …” Tears in her eyes threatened to drop. Done with his healing, Professor Gangrous stood and merely glanced at his hysterical student before excitedly addressing the rest of the class, who were mostly staring – or glaring – at Hermione.

“This is why we must _see_ curses and spells instead of reading about them,” Professor Gangrous said triumphantly. “A Stinging Jinx is usually harmless, no? But see what can happen when there is _true_ power behind it! I want everyone to compose an essay for me about other possible spells … raw power can outweigh harmless intent … ten inches …”

Hermione drowned out the rest of his words. For the first time, she didn’t care about the homework assignment.

*** *** ***

Harry coerced Ginny into letting him leave Quidditch practice early and he showered in a matter of seconds so he could go find Hermione. Predictably, she was curled up next to a window in the library with a very heavy book. “Hey, are you alright?”

Hermione glanced up. “Yes, of course. How was practice?”

“Fine …” Harry dragged a chair over and faced his best friend in confusion. “Are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

“Yes, Harry … Oh! Anthony’s on your team, is he OK?”

“Yeah, his arm must’ve healed quickly. He played normally.” Harry didn’t miss Hermione’s muted sigh of relief. “So … was Gangrous right? Were you just casting the spell really strong, and that’s why …?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Hermione said dismissively. “I’ve been stressed out, you know, with Arithmancy being difficult and the Transfiguration project … I just had loads of energy, I’m sure of it. I really didn’t mean to cast the spell that hard. I’m glad Anthony’s alright.”

Harry wasn’t used to his know-it-all friend providing such a mediocre answer. He realigned his chair so he could toss an arm over her shoulder.

“I promise I’m alright, Harry.”

“I believe you, but I wanted to sit here anyway.” Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder and didn’t argue.

*** *** ***

Hermione managed to cease feeling guilty about Anthony Goldstein when he and the rest of the Dragons piled together on the ground for a happy group hug after winning their first match against the Nifflers. Captain Ginny’s Slytherin Beaters lifted her up on their shoulders triumphantly, which she was obviously enjoying. Professor McGonagall clapped loudly – possibly more for the show of inter-house unity than the outcome of the match.

Hermione made a polite appearance at the after-party in which Harry and Ginny were excitedly re-telling the best parts of the match, then she waved goodnight to the pair and quietly disappeared up to her dormitory to escape the noise.

A few minutes later Ron pulled Harry toward a table in the corner – Ginny followed curiously – and Ron asked Harry in a murmur where Hermione had gone.

“She went upstairs,” Ginny answered promptly. “Why?”

“Oh …” Ron shook his head a little in confusion. “OK, that’s fine.”

Harry was baffled. “Did you need her for something?”

“I … no. It’s alright.”

Ginny pushed her brother backwards into a chair. “Speak, Ronald.”

Ron blushed. “I … I couldn’t see her, and I didn’t know where she went, so I– I just got worried …?”

“The same thing happened to me yesterday,” Harry said, brow furrowed. “She left after Transfiguration and I got worried ‘cause I forgot she had Runes right after. I knew she’d be fine, but I still felt weird, like …”

“Like you needed her in your line of sight?” Ron guessed. The boys studied each other. Ginny’s eyes moved back and forth between them.

“OK, I’m gonna take a mad guess and say this isn’t normal?”

*** *** ***

In her abandoned dormitory Hermione listened to the distant happy noises of the Quidditch fans and tried to convince herself she was imagining things.

The last time something unexplainable happened her life, she learned she was a _witch_. Now it seemed her magic was taking on an entirely new life – the odds of it being connected to that silly fairy tale were outlandish, but she still wanted answers. _Something_ was different, and it scared her.

She looked around the room carefully. She and Parvati shared with Ginny and two other seventh years. Wand in hand, she nonverbally Summoned Ginny’s pillow to her bed, then Banished it back to its original place. _Perfect._

With a breath, Hermione set down her wand and Summoned the pillow again, which flew past her at top speed and bounced off the window. She froze as she watched a small crack trickle across the windowpane.

 _This is the part where Dumbledore should knock on the door with all the answers_. Hermione buried her face in her arms.

*** *** ***

“Hermione, I was thinking about something,” Ginny began slowly. She was lying on her bed attempting to sleep after the high of winning Quidditch.

Hermione immediately detected the tension in the other girl and spun on her bed to face her. “Is this about that bloody Mage legend again?” Hermione demanded. Ginny frowned and Hermione snorted, going back to her book. She was _not_ going to repeat this conversation.

“Please listen,” Ginny asked quietly. “I’ve a bad feeling about this, and I really want to find out more if we can.”

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. It made sense that Ginny got wrapped up in stories; she grew up with magic powers in a family of wizards and fell in love with her childhood superhero who’d saved her life! As a child Hermione didn’t even care for Disney cartoons; now she was supposed to be the heroine of an absurd wizarding fairy tale?

 _I can’t prove it’s false until we find more information_ , she reminded herself bitterly.

“Very well, Ginny, let’s talk about the poem,” Hermione conceded. She closed her book and laid down on her bed, waiting.

Ginny joined her immediately with a scribbled copy of the incomplete poem. “I think I know why you shocked Harry and Ron.”

“When I …? Oh. That.” Hermione had been trying to forget the curse-like feeling.

“At your birthday when you collapsed, you said you felt something like a shock, right?” Hermione nodded reluctantly. “What if that shock was your power awakening, like the poem says–?” Hermione couldn’t hold back her groan of frustration.

“Oh, just hear me out,” Ginny huffed. “Let’s _pretend_ that this poem is completely right. On your nineteenth birthday there was a thunderstorm, and you felt a shock. Let’s call it your power awakening. Next morning when you touched Ron, you shocked _him_.”

“I’ve touched Ron plenty of times,” Hermione countered.

“Yes, but this was _after_ your power awakened,” Ginny protested.

“Fine. Ron reacted to my newfound magic power.”

Ginny frowned at the sarcasm. “Look, Hermione, I know you don’t want to open your mind to this stuff–”

“No, Ginny, I really don’t. This _stuff_ is meaningless to me. I spent my whole life studying _science_. Facts. _Logic!_ ” Hermione sat up, fighting back her tears of frustration. “Then, I get a visit from Dumbledore and he tells me I’m a _witch!_ It was the most unnerving … most _mental_ thing that could’ve possibly happened, and then when I finally learn to accept that magic is real and I start to make sense of it all, people start throwing around prophecies and crystal balls and fairy tales!”

Ginny was quiet.

“I can believe in magic, Ginny, I’ve got proof,” Hermione picked up her wand from her bedside table. “I can make things levitate, change, or disappear. I’ve _seen_ magic. I’ve _felt_ magic. But seeing the future in crystal balls, and– and fairy tale legends coming to life? I can’t accept that. I just … can’t. I’d rather believe in the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.”

“Hermione,” Ginny began gently. “You can conjure a Patronus, right?” Hermione nodded slowly.

“So, you can literally conjure something from a good memory,” Ginny stated plainly. “Isn’t that kind of a special magic in itself? It’s magic that comes right from your soul. Except, you can’t _see_ your soul, right?” Hermione squeezed her Patronus crystal in her left hand. Ginny had a point.

“I think there’s loads out there that nobody understands yet,” Ginny continued. “Magic always existed, even if you didn’t know about it. Science always existed, but I didn’t know about it, right? But the laws of physics exist no matter what, like gravity and magnetic forces, and every action has an equal and opposite reaction …”

Hermione turned to her friend in shock. “You’re studying Newtonian theory?”

Ginny grinned bashfully. “I might’ve browsed the new Muggle Studies section of the library before talking to you. But I’m serious, Hermione. Wizards were levitating things before you ever knew magic was real. And the law of gravity existed before scientists knew it was real. You know you’ve got a soul, even though you can’t see or feel it. Sometimes things just _exist_ even if we can’t explain them.”

“Alright, Ginny, I understand what you’re trying to say. I’m just having such trouble believing that _fairy tales_ are real …”

Ginny hmphed. “I’m not saying _all_ of them are real. I mean yes, _The Tale of the Three Brothers_ had some basis in fact, but d’you think there was really a witch named Babbitty Rabbitty who had a cackling stump?”

The girls giggled and Hermione felt a little better.

*** *** ***


	7. Of Bias and Bludgers

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 7: Of Bias and Bludgers**

“… and if she shocked Ron when she kissed him, then it stands to reason that the first time she touched Harry after her birthday, she also shocked him.” Ginny finished.

Ron and Harry’s matching blank stares resembled students listening to Professor Binns. Hermione held her Patronus crystal in her fist trying desperately to stay open-minded, or at the very least, silent.

“OK,” Ron began slowly. “So, you think her magic … _reacted_ to us?”

“Yes,” Ginny said. “But she’s touched me since then too, and probably other people, and they didn’t get shocked. It’s not like she shocks everybody, so there’s something special about the two of you.”

“Well, the three of us are pretty close …” Harry started.

Ginny shook her head. “It’s more than that. I think you’re two of her Guardians.”

“Her … what’s that now?” Ron said weakly.

Ginny pointed furiously to the last stanza of the poem. “The Mage has unstable magic, so she has five Guardians that balance out her power, remember? They represent the elements, and–”

“Hang on,” Harry jumped in. “You think it’s _us?_ ”

“Yes, you. Harry Potter. Ronald Weasley.” Ginny said slowly, as if she were explaining to first years how to perform a Hover Charm. “I know we haven’t seen this whole poem yet, but I bet my broomstick Hermione’s the Mage, and her magic reacted to you two because you’re her Guardians.”

The humble look the boys shared was almost endearing, and Hermione decided to cut in. “It actually makes sense if you think about it. If this all-powerful magical being were really _me_ , then who better to supposedly guard me or help me manage my almighty power than you two?” She rolled her eyes at her bewildered friends.

“I … guess …” Harry managed.

Ron was slightly purple. “I don’t get it … I thought the elements were like … symbols or something? Does this mean _we’re_ supposed to be water and fire and …?”

“Literature has something in common with prophecies, Ronald.” Hermione pointed out. “They can be interpreted in more than one way. Remember, there might not actually be a Mage at all, and this whole thing could be one big metaphor, if it’s even true to begin with.”

“Yes … metaphor.” Harry finally shook himself free of his confusion. “Right.”

Ginny sighed and pushed the parchment back to Harry for safekeeping. “It’s just my theory. But we definitely need to find the rest of this bloody poem.”

Hermione held her tongue.

*** *** ***

The morning of the last Quidditch match of the term dawned. It had taken Hermione forever to fall asleep, causing her to oversleep again. She wished she had less scruples about breaking school rules; she might’ve considered crawling into bed with Harry or Ron – or even Ginny – so they could help her get to sleep.

Shaking off her annoying dreams of shadows and magic shocks, she raced down to the Great Hall to catch her friends before they went off to change for the game. Since Ginny’s Dragons were facing Ron’s Griffins, the possibility of impending rows was high. Harry and Malfoy maintained a comfortable nonverbal acquaintance, but Merlin only knew how things would change as they battled for the Snitch like the old days. Hermione was too distracted to pay attention as she maneuvered through a crowd of students exiting the Great Hall while she rushed into breakfast late. She bumped shoulders, murmuring apologies.

Suddenly her hand brushed against something warm. She almost gasped aloud as she felt a sudden shock and realized she’d touched someone’s hand. She spun in her tracks to see who she’d touched, but the crowd was thick around her. The only person who stood out was … _Harry?_

No. It wasn’t Harry, though his dark tousled hair resembled Harry’s. Hermione was beginning to receive annoyed looks for blocking the door. She shook her head clear and quickly made her way into the Hall. _It was static electricity,_ she reminded herself fiercely.

But the effect of static electricity would not linger pleasantly on her skin as though her hand had been warmed by the sun for several hours, and she should not have had a strange urge to follow the unknown person out of the Hall.

*** *** ***

Hermione sighed and dropped into a seat by Harry, who probably looked the least nervous about the upcoming match.

“Did you oversleep again?” Ginny asked worriedly as she looked at the shadows under Hermione’s eyes. Hermione was too tired to respond beyond a nod. She stopped rubbing her hand and reached for a piece of toast.

“Hermione, you’ve got your worried thinking face on,” Harry murmured sideways.

She pursed her lips, but knowing she was too tired to adopt a poker face she reluctantly admitted, “I touched somebody and … I think I felt a shock.”

Ron immediately straightened up in his chair. “What? Who’d you touch?”

“It was an accident. I was coming into the Hall just as a group of people were leaving. I wasn’t paying attention and someone’s hand brushed up against mine.”

“Oh perfect, now we just need to ask every bloke at school if they accidently touched someone’s hand in a crowd today,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

Ron looked over at Hermione with a smirk worthy of a Slytherin. “You could always hold a kissing booth to see who you've got a spark with–”

“Ronald, if you suggest something like that again I will extract every orange hair from your legs with Parvati’s tweezers.” Harry snorted into his pumpkin juice and Ginny burst out laughing as Ron winced.

“Well, as much as you love public displays of affection–” Harry began. Hermione lazily backhanded him on the arm. “–d’you remember anyone from the crowd?”

Hermione paused. “Only one person caught my eye because I thought for a second it was you, Harry, from the back, but he was taller than you. Probably Ron’s height.” Ginny suddenly went pale, rose from her seat, and started to sprint away.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Ron – who had plenty of practice chasing after his broomstick-thieving little sister – stood immediately, caught her around the waist and hauled her back to the table. Ginny sat with a huff, resenting her brother’s strong Keeper grip pinning her to the chair.

Hermione was confused. “Ginny, do you know who I was talking about?”

“Well I certainly do if he looks like Harry,” Ginny huffed with her arms folded. “Last year I kept doing double-takes at him because I wanted to believe Harry was here. But you’re right, he’s too tall.” Harry blushed, but Hermione persisted.

“ _Who_ is too tall?”

“Theodore Nott,” Ginny murmured reluctantly. Ron finally loosened his grip on his sister as his eyes went wide.

“Malfoy’s friend? I don’t think I’ve ever talked to the bloke,” Harry mused.

“Nor I,” Hermione said. “He’s fairly quiet for a Slytherin–”

“The Notts are the _worst_ kind of pure-blood! You think the Malfoys were bad?” Ron shook his head vigorously. “Lucius Malfoy was a git and everything, but Nott Senior was a right monster! He spent years trying to pin awful stuff on Dad and get him thrown out of the Ministry ‘cause he thinks our family’s a bunch of blood traitors, he was one of You-Know-Who’s strongest supporters, he taught his son all his dirty tricks, I know it–”

Hermione cut in crossly, “That’s unfair, Ronald. Malfoy isn’t much like his father, at least not anymore.”

Ron’s ears went pink. “Look, it’s more than that, OK? Nott went to school with Riddle; he was one of the _original_ Death Eaters. He finally got killed at the Battle of Hogwarts, but he killed plenty of ours first, in both wars.” Harry bit his lip at this. They knew from his trial that Lucius Malfoy had never committed murder; Nott _did_ sound worse.

Ginny added slowly, “Our family is Sacred Twenty-Eight, but there’ve been protests for the last three decades to have us removed, and I know a bunch of them were organised by Nott. He was also suspected to be killing Muggles for entertainment, he killed some of Mum’s relatives–”

“Plus, there were rumors that Nott had his own _wife_ killed ‘cause she turned out to be a blood traitor or something!” Ron finished.

“But if those rumors were all about Nott Senior, then why are you two concerned about his son?” Hermione pressed. “I’ve never heard of Theodore doing anything wrong, and he would’ve been cleared by the Wizengamot to come back to Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, he was cleared,” Harry reassured her. “He tortured students last year but only when he had to, like Malfoy and Zabini. And, what’s the Sacred Twenty-Eight again?”

“It’s a registration of the oldest British pure-blood families that was put together around the thirties,” Hermione answered reluctantly. “Supposedly these families are the ones that trace the purity of their blood through history and come out on top. The old families like the Blacks and the Malfoys are on the list, and I think the Notts are too. Nowadays it’s nothing but prejudiced nonsense.”

“You’re not totally wrong,” Ron muttered. “But it’s still considered an honour to be on the list. It’s not just Slytherins either. We’re on it and so is Neville, and the Abbotts and the Bones … It can be easier to get a job because everyone knows your family name and most traditional families only let their kids marry other Sacred Twenty-Eight members. I know Neville’s gran is all over him to pick from the list.”

“I expect you’re holding out to marry Pansy or Millicent, then?” Hermione teased. Ron pretended to gag while Ginny chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Hermione finally claimed haughtily. “Specialists from the Department of Mysteries determined ages ago that the _Sacred_ families and their _purity of blood_ is utter fluff when it comes to producing heirs with advanced magical ability.”

“Clearly,” Harry grinned, looking at her pointedly.

“So, if Nott of all people is supposed to be one of Hermione’s Guardians,” Ginny said slowly, “how in the world are we gonna tell him?” Hermione bit her tongue and mentally recited her core Arithmancy equations so she wouldn’t start another argument about how she _wasn’t_ a super-powered sorceress.

“I don’t trust that guy as far as I can throw him,” Ron grumbled. “But we might find out without doing anything about it. Harry and I wanted to stay right close to Hermione since she shocked us. I reckon whoever she touched’ll feel the same thing.”

“Right, you and Harry were already close to Hermione, but if he …”

“I’m sorry, you both what?” Hermione suddenly interjected. The other three froze.

“Shoot, we didn’t mention that …” Ron mumbled, trying to not look at the sparks falling from Hermione’s eyes.

“Look at the time! We’re gonna be late!” Ginny snatched her brother by the collar and pulled him up. Harry shot Hermione an apologetic glance, but she waved him along. She looked down at her half-eaten toast and wondered if she could skip the match.

*** *** ***

Ron did an excellent job handling his team; he simultaneously defended his hoops while watching all his teammates and yelling instructions at them. He only had to get angry at their Beater once for causing a foul by hitting Demelza Robins with his club, thus earning Ginny’s team an extra goal.

Ginny managed her team perfectly, but one of her Beaters unexpectedly caused screams and shouts of terror when he deliberately smashed one of the Bludgers towards the stands. About fifty people leapt out of the way as the Bludger tore back and forth like a cannonball, demolishing the top two levels of seats. Hannah Abbott’s arm was bleeding from the splintered bench; she leaned on Ernie MacMillan who held her up despite getting grazed in the head. Hermione had been thrown sideways into Neville’s lap. After she righted herself Neville quickly leaned down to the next row to help Justin Finch-Fletchley lift a young Hufflepuff girl who’d been knocked out.

A foul was immediately awarded to the Griffins, but hardly anyone could hear Madam Hooch’s whistle over the angry crowd. Malfoy took advantage of all the distracted players by swooping down and snatching the Snitch causing the Griffins to quickly win the match.

There was some cheering as Ron led his team back to the ground for a celebratory hug – Ron even pounded Malfoy on the back happily – but most of the crowd was still yelling fiercely at the Dragons’ Beater, who had nearly fallen off his broom after smashing the ill-aimed Bludger. Hermione could see Ginny screaming at him. Harry stopped her from pulling out her wand while Professor McGonagall rushed down to the pitch to deal with the incident.

*** *** ***

“Congratulations!” Hermione hugged Ron, who happily swung her around in his bliss. Nobody was badly injured at the expense of the match, so the Dragons’ victory was guiltless. When Hermione was back on her feet she ran over to Malfoy. “Congratulations to you too, you played so well!” He murmured his thanks and looked up at Ron.

“Well, Weasley, turns out you played like our King after all.” Ron laughed and punched Malfoy in the shoulder.

“See you in a bit, Hermione!” he called as they set off for the changing rooms. Hermione watched after them, bewildered. _I guess Ron’s finally growing up._

Harry and Ginny found her a few moments later, back in their school robes. “Oh, sorry about the game you two–”

“It’s OK,” Ginny replied. “One loss won’t hurt too much.”

“What happened with that Beater?”

“Lance Westin,” Ginny huffed angrily. Her hands were still fisted tightly. “I’ve been having issues with him and Nestor Rogers making anti-Hufflepuff comments for the last three weeks, and there was a load of Hufflepuffs sitting by you and Neville. I’ve given them warnings, but I didn’t want to kick them off because they’re such good Beaters. Now I don’t have a choice; I never imagined they’d go that far.”

“Yeah, McGonagall was furious,” Harry said. “She was waving off all his excuses about how he didn’t mean it and he didn’t even remember doing it – I think the bloke tried to claim a Confundus Charm or something.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “But the Bludgers are charmed to stay away from the stands, so he shouldn’t’ve been able to do that at all.”

“You’re right,” Ginny said, exhausted. “But the Bludger went through the stands and flew off somewhere. Unless they can find it, they won’t be able to determine who removed its protective charms. I dunno if Westin could’ve done it, I’d have no idea how.”

“Anyway, Hermione, I guess you wanna know …” Harry trailed off.

“Why you lot were talking behind my back?” Hermione said sweetly. Harry looked abashed, but Ginny took a step towards the other girl with her arms folded.

“ _Yes_ , because we’re tired of your arguments that fairy tales aren’t real. Remember, _you_ confirmed Harry’s translation of a Runic scroll and found the reference that led us to the poem! It’s not like we randomly pulled out some children’s book and said ‘Oh, look, Hermione’s the grand sorceress that’ll save the day’!”

Harry visibly relaxed when Hermione burst out laughing at the exasperated redhead. He slipped his arms around the witches as they started heading back to the castle. “Ron and I talked about this after you … er … shocked me.” Harry admitted, “I noticed I got really nervous when I couldn’t see you or I didn’t know exactly where you were, and I kept feeling the urge to go look for you. Ron said it was the same for him; he even felt something when he didn’t see you leave the common room the other night and he got worried.”

“You two know I can take care of myself.”

“It’s not about that,” Harry refuted. “We just needed … visual proof that you were safe. I don’t worry about you if I know you’re with Ron, but any other time, I– it was like at Shell Cottage when, er–”

Hermione stopped walking. “Harry, you never talk about that,” she said softly.

Harry took a breath. “Dobby’s death was … well it was bloody hard, Hermione, but it was so much worse because I didn’t know if you were … if you were even alive. I couldn’t get back to you. Ron and I couldn’t– I don’t think I ever felt so helpless. You were trapped with _them_ , with … _her_ …” Hermione pulled her best friend into a very tight hug. Ginny quietly kept walking towards the castle.

Harry shook in Hermione’s arms as he stroked her soft brown hair. “Was the bloody worst day,” he mumbled. “You gave up everything for me, and I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“Sit.” Hermione released him and pointed at the chilly ground. Harry reluctantly sat, but she remained standing. “Harry Potter, you listen to me very carefully,” Hermione put on her best lecturing voice. “I was _not_ your responsibility. You did not take me into your care, nor did Ron. I came with you willingly and I _chose_ to fight with you. I knew _every_ risk. I knew I would become collateral damage if we should get captured, and you had NO obligation to save me.”

Harry immediately tried to stand and argue with her, but she pulled out her wand and made him stay. “I’m not done. I _know_ you care, but you knew perfectly well that you had to go on without me. Just like when Ron left, we knew we had to go on without him. The war needed to end, Harry, and _you_ were the one who needed to be there to face Voldemort. If you let on that you feel guilty about leaving me behind – which, by the way, you did not, because I _screamed_ at Dobby to go – I will hex you with a permanent Hirsutism Jinx and you can start introducing yourself as HAIRY Potter.” Harry burst out laughing and she finally let him stand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” He ruffled her hair, which earned him a poke him in the ribs.

“Anyway, it should be pretty easy to tell if Nott shocked you,” Harry said as they resumed their walk to the castle. “Ron and I want to be near you constantly, but that’s not too unusual, so if _he_ starts randomly spending time near you, it should be pretty obvious, right?”

 _This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever … “_ Right.”

*** *** ***

Even if Hermione were willing to admit the whole Elemental Mage nonsense was true, and Theodore Nott was supposed to be involved, he could’ve fooled her. The boy hadn’t paid any attention to her for six years and he certainly didn’t seem to be changing his habits.

She discreetly took a closer look at him in Potions one day. Like Blaise, he’d always been a rather nondescript Slytherin compared to Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. She recalled the day Hagrid introduced them to Thestrals in fifth year, which was the first time she took real notice of Nott. He, Harry, and Neville had been the only ones who could see them. She wondered what death Nott experienced at such an early age but remembered Ron’s rumor that Nott Senior had his wife killed. _I’d be a quiet student too if I lost my mother like that._

The dark-haired Slytherin caught her eye over their cauldrons only once, but she attributed this to him sensing her gaze, so she quickly looked away.

Oddly, someone else in Potions seemed to have their eye on Hermione. A seventh-year Ravenclaw she thought was named Trevor Stern kept glancing over at her. Hermione didn’t particularly like him, as he was often involved in the anti-Slytherin rants among the Ravenclaws. While clearing her table after completing her Pepperup Potion, the boy stopped in front of her on his way out of the room.

“Can I help you?” she asked dryly. Trevor didn’t answer; he stared at her with his very black eyes and blank expression before turning away and leaving the room. Hermione stifled a shiver. _That was odd._

*** *** ***

Blaise nudged Draco in the ribs, causing the blond to fall from his chair to the floor with a thump. “… bloody hell, Blaise …” Draco picked himself off the floor and glared at his friend.

“’Bout time. I’ve been calling your name for three minutes. You off in dreamland with your girlfriend again?”

Draco smacked him on the shoulder with _Advanced Potion-Making_. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Perhaps, but it’s funny that you know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“Treading on thin ice, Zabini.”

“I need to borrow your _Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_. I left mine downstairs.”

Draco extracted the book from his bag and pushed it towards the other boy without taking his eyes off their table. They didn’t frequent inter-house common rooms, but some idiot second year had dropped a jar of newt livers in the Slytherin common room. The entire place smelled horrible and Draco didn’t like reading through Bubble-Head Charms.

He tried to ignore the annoyed glances aimed in their direction by the nearby Ravenclaws. The prejudiced know-it-alls had to behave since Potter was in the room. The war hero maintained an openly negative stance against anti-Slytherin behaviour. The week before, Potter broke a school rule and angrily hexed two Ravenclaws with Tongue-Tying Jinxes after they referred to a group of Slytherins as _Death Eater spawn_.

It was bizarre not hating Potter; Draco still didn’t know how to fully process it.

“The two of you are studying quite often this year, and I came to express my concern that someone had you under an Imperius Curse,” came a drawl from a tall figure who dropped into an empty seat.

“I’d like to ask if you’ve read the entire library yet, Theo, but we all know that happened about six months into first year,” Blaise replied smoothly. Draco sniggered.

“Lemme guess, you’ve run out of homework to do and you’ve come to beg to do ours?” Draco drawled.

“You wish, Malfoy. I’m checking in that you’re letting me crash at the Manor over Christmas. If you don’t care to tolerate my company, I believe I shall recall my house-elves from your charge and have them accompany me to an elegant resort in the Mediterranean–”

“Well, when he puts it _that_ way, I guess we can put up with him, eh Draco?”

“Sure,” Draco leered at Theo. “Make sure you bring me a spectacular present.”

“But Draco, surely people would talk were I to gift-wrap myself.” Theo smirked.

Across the room, Harry was looking over the poem again in frustration at all the gaps. “D’you think Hermione was right, that it’s a metaphor?” he mumbled to Ron under his breath. “It all seems so _literal_.”

“I remember when Mum read it, she made it sound like a real person. We both know what Ginny thinks.”

“It freaks me out, I mean if it really _is_ Hermione–”

“Harry!” Ron hissed as he noticed the tall figure passing their table and snatched the parchment to hide it under his notes, but it was too late. Nott had seen it.

*** *** ***


	8. Of Memories and Mirrors

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 8: Of Memories and Mirrors**

Hermione was much too busy with her career concerns and research to worry about her friends’ whispers that Theodore Nott saw them looking at the poem. Really it was just a bloody _poem_ , and if someone else wanted to take over investigating the Sorting Hat’s warning that was fine with her. As Christmas drew nearer, her stress level climbed along with the quantity of homework.

Hermione kept a running tally of her subjects and her confidence in passing the NEWT for each one. Her elevated expectations for Herbology, Defence, Charms, Runes, and Potions should’ve helped her ego, but her desperate ongoing struggles with Arithmancy seemed to outweigh any positives. She was beginning to consider swiping a simple Muggle Studies NEWT and just joining the Muggle Relations Division after leaving Hogwarts so she could reform the substandard Muggle Studies classes at Hogwarts. Perhaps she should talk with Arthur over the holidays; his enthusiasm of Muggles was unparalleled for a pure-blood.

She wondered if security could be lowered on the castle at some point so students might be allowed to take field trips. Surely excursions to museums, theme parks, parliament buildings, or even shopping malls would enhance the understanding of Muggle culture. Hermione carefully filed her Muggle Relations ideas under Career Plan C, following her desire to become a curse-breaker and her ever-pressing wish to provide better lives for house-elves. Yes, it would certainly be good to chat with Charlie over the holidays, too.

Her friends were annoyingly lax with their post-Hogwarts career hopes. Harry once wanted to be an Auror, but his desire to risk his life slowly faded as he planned his future with Ginny. Also, his hero status meant that he’d have an easy leg up to any Ministry career, and Hermione knew her friend didn’t want to succeed by way of special treatment. Ginny talked about playing Quidditch professionally, and Harry joked that he should be a stay-at-home dad while she won Quidditch Cups around the planet. Ron pointed out that if Ginny’s career didn’t pan out, Harry could just sell his autographs for ten Galleons apiece and they’d be all set. Harry responded with a jinx that turned Ron’s ears into kumquats.

Ron was the most undecided wizard in their year. Even after the excitable Professor Switch spent a full hour discussing careers with him, Ron seemed to have no clear idea what he wanted to do with his life. While he maintained a mild interest in being an Auror, a Quidditch player, or even a Herbologist thanks to some natural talent, Hermione believed that Ron simply wasn’t ready to stop being a teenager yet.

She had so much to think about that Nott vanished from her thoughts completely until he inexplicably interrupted her quiet December afternoon in the library.

“May I?”

Hermione glanced up in surprise but nodded and moved some stacks of parchment off the seat next to her.

“I recognize that assignment you’re working on,” Nott said quietly as he sat. “From sixth year Arithmancy, I believe?”

“Yes. I’m redoing my sixth-year assignments so I can relearn the material. I’m finding the seventh-year lessons difficult since I missed last year, and I’m worried about passing the NEWT–” Hermione suddenly realized she was babbling to a stranger and cut herself off.

“I suppose I take it for granted that I could return to school last year.” he said simply. Hermione fiddled with her notes and didn’t reply. “I doubt you’ll have difficulties; you’re the brightest witch in the school by all accounts. Do you enjoy Arithmancy?”

Hermione looked up at him, wondering why he was engaging her, but her persistence to forward inter-house unity demanded she indulge him. “I do. I’m considering becoming a curse-breaker.”

“I see. Then you must enjoy studying history, and legends?”

“To a point, yes.”

“I expect that’s why you and your friends are studying the _Mage Elementum_ _?_ ” he asked quietly. Hermione kept her expression perfectly neutral. _If he wants to believe in that nonsense, that’s his funeral._

“I didn’t realize you were familiar with it. It doesn’t seem to be well known,” she said.

“You’re correct, which is why I was surprised to see several Gryffindors with a well-used copy of it when it doesn’t likely hold significance to any of our current studies.”

Hermione was pleasantly surprised with his eloquence. She realized she’d expected him to sound like Malfoy – the old one – sneering and prejudiced. “It captured our fascination is all. Harry and I were brought up by Muggles and aren’t familiar with most wizarding stories.”

“Including _The Tale of the Three Brothers?_ ” Nott inquired. Hermione’s brow furrowed slightly, and he smirked a little. “Blaise and Draco overheard much of what occurred at the Battle of Hogwarts and kindly relayed it to me. I knew through my father that Potter possessed an Invisibility Cloak, so I presumed he acquired all three Deathly Hallows artifacts, thus allowing him to survive the Killing Curse again. I understand an article was written about Potter this summer confirming this?”

Hermione nodded slowly. She was impressed but a little apprehensive that a non-ally of theirs seemed so aware of their adventures. He must’ve understood her look, because he humbly shrugged and said, “I enjoy legends as well.”

“Snooping around for something, Nott?” Ron came up behind them and stood protectively next to Hermione, staring suspiciously at the Slytherin.

“Not at all, simply expressing curiosity,” Nott replied smoothly.

“I reckon you had to be told what happened during the Battle since you were too cowardly to stay and fight,” Ron replied with a sneer. To their surprise, the other boy nodded.

“You’re correct, Weasley, though not for the reason you likely suspect. I was indeed cowardly, of facing my father. He would’ve pressured me to join him.”

Ron glared. “You would’ve fought against students?”

Nott shook his head. “I left so I wouldn’t be forced to make such a choice. If I’d openly chosen not to join them, the Death Eaters would’ve specifically targeted me, and I wouldn’t have made it out alive. I shared the ideals of a Death Eater until I arrived at Hogwarts,” Nott admitted, “but I was lucky for the opportunity to meet well-rounded adults whose differing opinions allowed me to grow from my father’s.”

“Your opinions weren’t affected by your house mates?” Hermione inquired.

“Not nearly as much. I knew Goyle, Crabbe, and Malfoy before Hogwarts and I already knew where their allegiance stood. Though my allegiance once aligned directly with theirs it became drastically reshaped as I studied under Professors Vector, McGonagall, and Snape.” Ron snorted. “However, last year I couldn’t predict whether Voldemort would emerge victorious or not. I simply kept my head down and acknowledged neither side to protect my own future. I am, after all, a Slytherin.”

Ron’s stare grew wider when Nott let the name slip. “Question, Weasley?”

“Er– no.” Ron stammered. Hermione held back a smile. Ron looked exactly as though he’d been talked off a high pedestal. She curiously studied the dark-haired boy who randomly chose to trust his political opinions to his rival house. She found his logic comfortably reasonable. If she’d been a Slytherin …

“I understand,” she said softly. Ron glared at her, which she ignored. She leaned toward Nott slightly. “And what interest do you have in the _Mage Elementum_?”

“Though a delightful tale it is,” Nott promptly responded, “I don’t recall the poem in its entirety, but I recognized one or two lines bearing a resemblance to the Sorting Hat’s song.”

Hermione officially decided she wanted this boy around more often. “Very well, Nott–” she began.

“Theo, please.”

“Very well, Theo, I believe our interests are aligned.” Hermione ignored Ron’s pursed lips. “We also noted the commonalities, and we suspect the Shadow from the poem to be the threat in the Hat’s warning. Perhaps, like _The Tale of the Three Brothers_ , this story is not entirely fictitious. We hope to find a full copy of the poem to learn more.”

“I’m interested to assist,” he replied, “I’m afraid I’ve no better recollection beyond what Potter seemed to have copied down; however, upon my father’s recent demise I became the master of Nott Estates and I now possess a rather extensive collection of historical volumes. With the holidays approaching, I’d be pleased to research the _Mage Elementum_ and collaborate with you upon our return to school.”

Hermione smiled at him. “As the library here is rather sparsely sourced, we appreciate your assistance, Theo.” Theo gathered his bag and returned the smile in Slytherin-fashion, which always held a hint of a smirk no matter what.

“I look forward to talking again, Hermione.”

*** *** ***

Ron waited until they were nestled in a corner of the Gryffindor common room with Harry and Ginny before he exploded. “She TRUSTS him! One tiny conversation with the guy and she’s ready to trust him with _everything!_ ”

“Ron–” Harry started.

“Who does that slimy snake think he is, getting involved?!”

“Ron–” Hermione tried.

“What the _bloody_ hell is this world coming to – we’re all best mates with Slytherins and playing Quidditch with Slytherins and trusting Slytherins–”

Ginny had enough. With a flick of her wand, she Silenced him. Ron continued ranting for a few seconds before he realized his words weren’t coming out, and then he glared fiercely at his sister’s betrayal.

“Perhaps, Ronald, you could let the brightest witch of our age explain what got you in a right state this time?” Ginny asked with a huff. Ron grumbled noiselessly but waved Hermione to outline her conversation with Theo Nott.

“He figured out the Hat’s warning too?” Harry said, impressed.

“He’s also offered to do some research in his family library over the holidays,” Hermione concluded.

“How do we know we can trust anything he says?” Ron grumbled when he could speak again. “What if he brings back a bunch of useless information?”

“Simple,” Hermione immediately countered. “We verify his sources if anything appears untrustworthy, and we don’t have to tell him anything at all if we have reason to believe we can’t trust him.”

Harry seemed satisfied, but Ginny frowned slightly. “How can we verify his information if he’s got better sources?”

Hermione glanced at Harry. “You’ve been rather ignorant of Grimmauld Place since the war, Harry.”

Her friend gave her a look. “I haven’t wanted to go back, Hermione–”

“I understand there are painful memories,” Hermione replied gently. “But there are also treasures in that house we haven’t found yet. The Blacks were one of the oldest pure-blood families in Britain, and we know they liked hiding things. I expect they had a library just as extensive as the Notts.”

Ginny lit up and Ron looked almost excited. “If we can find it, we might not need Nott at all!”

Hermione shrugged. “I can’t guarantee anything, but as I’m learning more about curse-breaking I may be able to find something if we return to Grimmauld Place for Christmas.”

*** *** ***

Molly Weasley was insistent that _all_ her children – Weasley or otherwise – be present for Christmas, so the quartet planned to search Grimmauld Place for a hidden library after Boxing Day.

The train ride back to London was enjoyable; Hermione managed to put away her gruelling Arithmancy text for a little while and they chatted happily about Christmas while indulging in their favourite Honeydukes sweets. A Notice-Me-Not Charm on their compartment door kept unwanted visitors from peering in. After a duel ensued one very confusing Saturday in Hogsmeade – in which three witches insisted _they_ had a date with the war hero – Ron swore off all girls for the remainder of the Hogwarts year. Despite his continued tendency to stand a little more confident when someone flirted with him, Ron kept a safe distance from all witches but Hermione, Ginny, and Luna Lovegood.

When they reached London, Hermione and Harry carefully guided the befuddled Weasleys through the Underground to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping. Hermione insisted on Muggle transport instead of Apparation due to their _grossly incomprehensive_ Muggle Studies education. Ginny loved the Christmas decorations in Muggle London and claimed they felt “just as magical.” Ron was confused by the Underground and kept asking questions like, “Why dig so deep into the ground instead of making the trains fly above everything?”

Hermione held hands tightly with her friends as much as possible, focusing on a good holiday with them and not missing Christmas with her parents.

“This is nice,” Harry murmured to her at one point. “Much nicer than last year.” _No competition._ Last year they visited Harry’s parents’ graves and then got attacked by a horcrux snake.

Hermione and Harry had never seen Diagon Alley at Christmastime. Every post was wrapped in foot-thick fluffy green garlands, enchanted icicles dripped from every eave, and the street was illuminated by an endless sea of red and green candles bobbing up and down in midair, unaffected by the lightly falling snow. Gringotts was its usual white marble and gold, but Hermione thought it matched the Christmas decorations so well it might’ve been planned.

Harry and Ron looked at each other carefully before entering Gringotts. They’d avoided the place since the breaking-out-on-the-back-of-a-stolen-dragon incident. Harry fully expected to pay for the loss of a high-security asset – while secretly hoping the goblins wouldn’t petition for their arrest on sight – but their potential anxiety was for naught; the goblin at the door recognized Harry at once and burst into a bow so low his long nose brushed the ground.

“Crisis averted,” Ginny hissed to Hermione under her breath.

Despite many other families visiting the bank, almost every goblin stopped whatever he was doing to bow or greet Harry and his friends reverently. _“… saved us all … broke our laws; were it anyone else, he would never be back … removed evil from our midst … honourable wizard …”_ they murmured to each other as the group passed. Harry was red in the face and tried to ignore the curious looks from the other wizarding families before finally reaching a free goblin at the counter, who leaped off his chair to bow deeply.

“Good day, Harry Potter sir,” the goblin murmured respectfully. Ron and Ginny exchanged a look. They’d heard numerous stories from Bill over the years about how much goblins disliked wizards and their betrayal by Griphook hadn’t come unexpected. The idea that the goblins would treat a wizard like this was unthinkable.

“Good day,” Harry replied politely to the goblin. “My friends and I would like to access our vaults–”

“Most certainly sir, but before you do, I believe we have a special request directly from the Head Goblin that we might address first, if it is not too much trouble, sir?”

Harry looked surprised. “Er … sure, no trouble.” The goblin bowed them behind the desk and past the doors leading down to the vaults. At the back of the bank stood a set of double doors leafed in gold and embossed with carvings of jewels, crowns, and other goblin-made items. They recognized the Sword of Gryffindor on the left-hand door and Ravenclaw’s diadem on the right.

After a quick whisper to the guards on either side of the door, the goblin who greeted them led the way into part of the bank none of them had laid eyes upon. From the outside of the bank, Hermione recalled that Gringotts was around three or four stories tall, but like many wizarding buildings, the inside was magically different.

They entered a massive hall with a ceiling so high they couldn’t quite make it out. It must’ve been panelled in pure gold because despite the chilly December day, the candlelight reflecting off the ceiling gave the illusion of a midsummer sun warming the hall. Thin veins of silver crisscrossed over pure white marble columns, tastefully embellished with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. The overall feel of the room was that one had entered a rich jewel mine, but an aboveground one, if such a thing existed.

Ginny was breathless taking it all in, and the goblin escorting them smiled at her reaction. “We know much of goblin culture is not taught to young wizards, miss, but though we are often thought to be greedy and possessive of our treasures, it in fact gives us much joy to see them truly appreciated.” Ginny merely nodded, her eyes sweeping the amazing room.

Hermione smiled politely at the goblin and asked what he would teach young wizards, if he were given a choice. Ron stifled a snort – _typical Hermione_ – but the goblin stopped short and nearly fell over. “Miss, I have never …”

“I do hope I haven’t offended you–” Hermione started.

“No, Miss. Witches and wizards take such little interest in our culture that we do not often get asked such a question. I am honoured you would value our opinion, Miss.” Hermione went pink, but Ron hid another laugh as he imaged Hermione returning to school and forming the Society for the Promotion of Goblin-Culture Awareness.

“Our history is long, Miss, but if I could say one thing only, it would be that goblins wish to freely use our own magic with no restriction from the Ministry of Wizards. Our freedoms are minimalized, you see; we create our treasures and run our bank, but we are denied the use of wands and much of our magic is restricted by wizard laws. We believe the ignorance of wizards’ education allows them to take such liberties with our culture.”

“Like with goblin-made artefacts?” Harry asked. “Bill Weasley told me your folk believe items should be returned to the goblins after the purchaser dies.”

“Quite so, sir … and you know Mr. Weasley?”

“He’s our brother,” Ginny piped up, gesturing to herself and Ron. The goblin’s eyes opened wide.

“Please, sirs and misses, this way.” Their escort continued excitedly across the massive hall. It might have been an illusion, but the hall seemed to span nearly the length of a Quidditch pitch. Other doors branched off the hall, but their petite escort took them right to the end where a small golden door was guarded by a much burlier and stern-looking goblin armed with an extremely pointy spear.

Ron and Harry stopped on either side of Hermione, and Ron reached for Ginny with his other hand. The girls exchanged a glance, unafraid but bemused at the wizards’ protective instincts.

They had nothing to fear; their escort exchanged several words with the armed guard in Gobbledegook before the guard extended his spear and ran its needle-sharp tip down the length of the golden door. The door melted away, and Harry had a flashback to his very first Gringotts visit.

The guard and their escort bowed them through the door. Harry entered first and the others nearly crashed into him when he stopped in his tracks in shock.

Harry was staring into the smiling faces of his parents.

*** *** ***

Theo left Blaise and Draco at platform nine and three quarters, promising to return to the Manor later. He Apparated to the outskirts of the remote, hidden Nott Estates, which he hadn’t seen in two summers.

For a moment he stood still looking at the main building, which was beautiful. The massive house was practically a palace, constructed from blocks of flawless granite which gleamed like new in the afternoon sun even though the estate was over six hundred years old. The bitter northern wind turned Theo’s ears red, but the moment he passed the estate perimeter the atmospheric charms within warmed him to the core. He detected a magical sigh as the house recognized him as master of the estate.

The property was surrounded by fluffy deep green firs which gave the entire place a pleasant Christmas scent. The everlasting violets his mother loved spanned either side of the mosaic walkway leading to the massive mahogany front door.

Those violets were about the only reason Theo didn’t burn this horrid place to the ground.

He merely laid his hand on the front door and it swung open to admit him. The grand entrance hall was constructed of glorious ivory marble, imbued with flecks of silver and jade, and the subtle motion of long ultramarine silk hangings between the massive columns created the illusion of walking into an underwater paradise. Theo hated it.

He firmly turned on his heel away from the grand hall and found a secondary staircase to lead him down.

*** *** ***

“Harry?” Ginny peered around her brother’s tall form to look at her boyfriend. “What’re you looking at? Is there something on Ron’s nose?” Ron poked her in the ribs.

Hermione looked over Harry’s shoulder and realized they were facing a tall mirror, into which Harry was openly gaping. Hermione could see all four of them reflected in it but – she jumped slightly – their goblin escort did not have a reflection.

“Bantok?” A voice came from behind them, and a tall redhead stepped into the room.

“Hey, Bill!” Ron and Ginny immediately turned and burst into matching grins, which Bill returned. Hermione was still watching Harry, who hadn’t lowered his gaze from the mirror.

“Ah, Mr. Weasley,” their goblin escort made a slight bow and gestured to the others. “Perhaps you would like to guide them from here?”

“Certainly, Bantok,” Bill exchanged a few more words with the goblin in Gobbledegook quickly before Bantok bowed once more and left the room causing the shimmering golden door to reappear behind him. Ginny jumped into Bill’s arms as he greeted everyone. He gently reached out and gripped Harry’s shoulder, forcing Harry to tear his gaze from the mirror. A tear slid down his cheek. Hermione hadn’t seen this look since the summer funerals, and she nearly started crying herself.

“Harry, what on earth is the matter?” Ginny begged him.

“It’s alright,” Bill said quickly. “I’ll explain everything.” He led them around the mirror to a large fireplace encrusted with sapphires that reflected the dancing flames. Bill ushered them all into chairs around the fireplace and took a breath. “I didn’t expect you to come today, or I would’ve given a heads up. This wasn’t meant to be such a shock, I’m sorry for that, Harry.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end, but he didn’t seem to care.

“It’s alright,” he mumbled. “I’ve seen it before, but it’s been a really long time.”

“You have?” Bill was surprised.

“First year. It was Dumbledore’s, right?”

Ron’s eyebrows suddenly shot upwards. “Oh, Merlin’s beard, I forgot all about that thing …” Hermione was utterly baffled.

Harry gestured to the mirror. “It’s the Mirror of Erised.”

*** *** ***

Like most boys, Draco hadn’t made a regular habit of introducing his companions to his mother, but Narcissa knew Blaise Zabini quite well since he spent most of last summer at the Manor. Her affection for the dark-eyed wizard grew as she learned how much Draco relied on him – though her stubborn son would never admit it. Her hospitality towards the young man was the least she could do in gratitude.

Her son had grown so tall but remained so thin. She worried he was forgetting to eat or that he was suppressing great stress, but Draco would never answer her questions directly in fear of worrying her more.

But not for nothing had Narcissa Malfoy née Black been sorted into Slytherin. If there was something to be learned about her son, she would find it in his confidant. She coerced Blaise into an impromptu private discussion over tea while Draco went over the Manor’s latest financial reports.

“So, tell me young man, how is my son faring?” Ever aware of the risk of showing too much emotion, Narcissa expressed only the faintest of motherly concerns.

“I believe he worries about you,” Blaise replied smoothly. “He worries you’re lonely here.” Narcissa had already discussed this with Draco endlessly. He’d been so concerned about going back to school and leaving her alone that she practically had to force him out the door on September the first. She suspected Draco anticipated this very conversation and cunningly provided his friend with a rehearsed reply.

She smiled endearingly at her son’s friend and stroked his cheek as if he were her own. “Dear Blaise, an eighteen-year-old wizard is hardly concerned with the goings-on of his dull mother and her growing teacup collection.” She spoke with the smoothness of polished marble. “A perceptive Slytherin as yourself could not be unaware of the real troubles facing my lonely son.” Blaise’s dark cheeks didn’t show colour well, but Narcissa didn’t miss the little swallow he tried to hide.

 _I was correct; Draco is lonely_. She suspected after the war – which he barely expected to survive – her son was finally experiencing the struggles of a teenager. He lost one friend to death, another to prison, and had been forced to return to school where he more than likely became a social outcast. Predictably, he showed no interest in young women during the stress of the war, but she suspected this had changed.

And she was pretty sure she knew who changed it.

“He cares about you a great deal, you know,” Narcissa spoke around her teacup.

“I believe he does, yes.” Blaise took a slow sip of tea.

“And he also trusts young Theodore?”

“Certainly.”

“He is so lucky to have valuable friends.”

“Yes, he is.”

Both took long sips of tea.

_I’ve been doing this longer than you, young Slytherin._

“It saddens me, truly, that Draco lost such a valuable role model with Severus Snape’s passing. He was a dear friend of mine, you know. I do hope there is at least one other teacher Draco looks up to?”

“Our professors are much improved this year, Madam Malfoy.”

“None of that, young man. You call me Narcissa, remember.”

“Of course,” Blaise inclined his head politely, not alluding that he’d been reminded six or seven times already.

“I trust Minerva McGonagall has been valuable to the school as Headmistress?”

“Very much so; she has no tolerance for prejudice, including against those of us that the other students are … less than fond of.”

“I suppose the other students are rather hesitant to follow her example, as some prejudices run quite deep.” Narcissa casually reached for the sugar.

“Sadly yes, although our inter-house pairings are going surprisingly well. Some students certainly strive to look past old differences.”

“I suppose Miss Granger is one of the enlightened ones?”

Blaise choked on his tea and tried to verbalize an answer, but the damage was done. Narcissa’s lips quirked into the tiniest of smiles.

_Draco’s gonna kill me._

*** *** ***


	9. Of Tests and Treasure

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 9: Of Tests and Treasure**

“This is a goblin-made mirror, lent to Dumbledore years ago to protect something valuable,” the oldest Weasley son began. “Once the object no longer needed protection, Dumbledore returned the Mirror to the goblins. The power of the Mirror judges a wizard’s soul.”

“That’s barmy,” Ron commented. “How can a mirror do that?”

“You’ve seen it before, Ron, remember?” Harry struggled to speak normally. “It shows your greatest desire. If you were a thief or something, it would probably show you stealing from the bank and they wouldn’t like that.”

Bill nodded profusely. “Goblins consider thievery to be the worst of crimes in their world because they believe anything of value must be earned. They use the Mirror to judge whether a wizard can be trusted with goblin treasures.”

“Is that why their reflections don’t show in the Mirror?” Hermione questioned.

“Yes, when it was forged it was designed to judge only wizards and witches, so it doesn’t affect goblins the same way,” Bill replied. He tilted his head at Hermione in interest. “Bantok said you showed great respect to the goblins, Hermione, and I’m grateful for that. Many wizards don’t show them any at all. What did you say, exactly?” Hermione went a little pink and recounted the earlier conversation. Bill was impressed.

“I’ve been working with goblins most of my career,” he shook his head, and his long red hair caught the firelight. “They’re easily offended and very possessive, and it’s rare for them to show respect to wizards beyond the niceties required for business dealings. I know how much they appreciate what Harry and Ron did, because they learned after you two left the bank last year you didn’t steal anything except an evil object which they were very glad to be rid of. It would’ve been easy for you to grab an armful of jewels on your way out, but you didn’t.”

“Nope!” Ron said proudly. “Even though I might’ve thought about it …” Bill rolled his eyes at his little brother.

“The goblins are extremely grateful to Harry for ending the corrupt Ministry. If wizards were unkind to them before, you can imagine how they were treated under the Death Eaters’ short rule. The goblins have been running Gringotts for nearly four thousand years, and Pius Thicknesse took sole control of the bank away from them. You’re probably as much a hero to most of the goblin population as the wizarding one, Harry. It was lucky you encountered Bantok on your way in, though; he’s a younger goblin and more open-minded about wizards in general. He was immediately willing to trust you all because you knew me, if not already because you know Harry.

“Anyway,” Bill continued, rising to his feet. “Because you accompanied Harry, the goblins require each of you to complete the test of the Mirror and if you pass, they intend to provide you a gift of gratitude.”

“Really?” Ron was intrigued.

“Bantok told me Harry has passed the test.” Bill said. “They trust me to ensure the rest of you pass as well.”

“Are you still working for them as a curse-breaker, Bill?” Hermione was much less interested in a gift as questioning the older Weasley about Career Plan A.

Bill shook his head. “The vaults in Europe no longer need curses broken regularly – especially now that the war’s over – and I wanted to stay here until Fleur has the baby instead of going back to Egypt. Right now, I’m working as a sort of trusted emissary between the goblins and certain wizards who … well, let’s just say they don’t have your level of respect. It’s not always an easy job, being a referee, but my long-standing relationship with the goblins means they trust me about as much as they can trust a wizard.”

Ginny was on her feet, anxious to look in the Mirror, but Harry took her hand. “Your greatest desire may not be what you expect,” Harry said softly. “It might make you sad, or even angry.”

“Harry’s right,” Bill told his sister gently. “People can go mad with want in front of the Mirror, or break down into tears, or even fight the goblins when they try to take them out of the room. Part of my job is staying nearby when wizards are brought in here in case they react badly.”

Ginny returned to her seat and looked deep in Harry’s eyes. “What did you see, Harry?”

He bashfully reached out and poked Ginny’s nose. “You.” Hermione and Bill turned away with small grins.

“When I saw the Mirror in my first year,” Harry said, taking a breath, “I saw my parents and my family that I never knew. It was the first time I knew what my parents looked like.” Ginny’s eyes started to tear. “At the time it was all I wanted – to have a family. Today, I saw you, and Ron and Hermione, Teddy, and all the Weasleys and … and my parents. They were part of our family, too.”

Hermione rubbed her wet cheeks and the Weasley men cleared their throats. Ginny reached out to hug her boyfriend tightly. She whispered to him while the others turned away to give them some space.

Bill playfully pushed his brother towards the Mirror. “Move it along, Squirt.”

“I’m taller than you now, prat.” Harry looked curiously at his friend. Ron’s greatest desire in first year was to outshine his brothers … but the vision must’ve changed.

Winning the Quidditch Cup would still make Ron happy, but it wouldn’t make uninhibited tears stream down his face. Hermione gently reached for Ron’s hand, and Bill stepped up to throw an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“I’ve looked, too,” he said quietly. “We probably see the same thing. Our family is whole again.”

Ron’s shoulders shook as he stared deeply into the sparkling blue eyes of his lost brother. In the middle of a sea of red hair, Fred’s arms were thrown around George and Ginny. Ginny’s arm was linked to Harry’s, whose other grasped Hermione’s. The happy group of Weasleys and honorary Weasleys laughed together at Fred’s jokes.

Ginny squeezed Harry’s hand and bravely went to join her brothers. Bill gently tugged Ron away from the Mirror, who moved with a defeated sob.

“I know it’s hard,” Bill murmured to Ginny. “But it’s easier to get it over with.” Ginny took a breath and stepped in front of the Mirror.

She was greeted by the same crowd Ron saw, but she and Harry were holding two children. The little boy had Ginny’s brown eyes and Harry’s black mop of hair, and the little girl had bright red hair and sparkling green eyes. Ginny broke into sobs of sorrow and hope as Harry slipped up behind her to pull her into his arms. He didn’t need to ask what she saw.

Hermione was an utter wreck. What if the Mirror showed her own lost parents? Was the goblin’s gift worth it? She wrapped her arms around her chest as if to hold her feelings inside, or perhaps to prevent her heart tearing itself free of her body.

Ron rejoined Harry and Ginny at the Mirror and slowly coaxed them away. Bill blew his nose loudly and made his family take their seats again. He conjured glasses of water for them before finally guiding Hermione to the Mirror. “Ready?”

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know if I can …”

“It’s not required,” Bill said gently. “But it’s possible they’ll be offended if you refuse. It’s up to you.” Hermione reached into the collar of her shirt and extracted her Patronus crystal. Whether or not it really gave her strength, she found its presence reassuring. She kept a tight hold as she stepped in front of the Mirror.

“I …” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

*** *** ***

Theo was proud of the extensive collection of his family’s library. It was the other reason he didn’t rip this property off the face of the earth; there was too much history and knowledge here to be sought.

He trod up and down the familiar shelves, running his fingers lightly over the books he’d grown up with, closer than friends. He knew every tome, every shelf, every silver symbol etched into the ends of the oaken shelves indicating their subject matter.

Except …

The very back wall of the library held the largest collection, spanning nearly three stories to the glass ceiling. A polished oak ladder slid back and forth with the lightest touch granting full access to the priceless volumes. To outsiders it lay hidden behind an enchantment – a hazy curtain of fog – through which one could not even discern the titles of the books.

By the age of eight, Theo was already an intense bibliophile and had devoured all the books he could reach. Yet, his favourite story was missing from the shelves he already learned so well: the story of the Elemental Mage.

He remembered checking and re-checking the rune markings on the shelves, walking up and down the aisles over and over, trying to find the story his mother whispered to him when he was four years old. It was his favourite because it was her favourite.

He never found the story.

Despite being the sole Nott heir, Theo himself couldn’t see beyond the shimmering wall that protected the most ancient – and likely Dark – volumes. But his fertile little mind became stubbornly convinced the story he sought lurked somewhere in those hidden shelves.

Finally, when he was twelve years old, he desperately tried to reach past the enchantment. His father stormed into the room when Theo screamed in pain, skin blistered from elbow to fingertips. Theodore Senior marched his son from the room and threw him down to the perfectly polished marble floor. Theo braced himself for the inevitable beating.

It never came. His father looked down at the damaged arm in disgust. His bottomless black eyes glared fiercely at his son’s blatant disregard of the family rules, and he reminded Theo loudly: “You are _nothing_ until you take the title of this house! I can make another heir if I remain displeased with you, and I will be displeased until you learn _respect!_ ” And he left him with the injury instead of creating new ones this time.

Theo had his wand confiscated every summer, and his father forbade the house-elves from treating his injury. He struggled through the remaining weeks of summer with his blistered hand, until Madam Pomfrey kindly poked it back to normal with a few jabs of her wand. To Theo’s great relief, she did not ask what happened.

Now master of the house, Theo faced the impressive wall that was no longer hidden to him. For a moment he simply took in the immense number of books stacked on gleaming shelves edged in silver. Thousands upon thousands of volumes reached sixty feet to the glass ceiling through which the sunset glowed pink and orange.

As he always did when he looked toward this wall, Theo subconsciously flexed his hand, recalling the burning blisters. He slowly reached up and removed the first book from the wall with no ill effects.

_I guess I’m not nothing anymore, am I, Father?_

*** *** ***

Hermione stood in the center of a round stone courtyard surrounded by high columns. Stars patterned across the dark sky, and Hermione thought she recognized Venus at a distance, along with a familiar constellation …

Suddenly a flash of light streaked through the black of the sky and briefly illuminated the round space. She realized she was standing on a slightly raised platform of stone with ancient runes carved all around it. Circled around her were five shadowy figures with their right arms reaching inward.

When the light flashed again – _lightning?_ – Hermione saw that one of the figures was Harry, determinedly reaching towards her as if begging her to come to him. Ron stood to his left, wearing a similar expression of desperation though his feet were planted firmly as though trapped in place. Hermione couldn’t make out the other three figures in the dark, though one was as tall as Ron–

Her thoughts were cut off completely as a shock of energy ran down her spine like an electrical current and burst from her core, surrounding her in pure, burning light. _I should be terrified …_ but somehow, she knew exactly what she was doing as she absorbed some of the light in her hands and lifted her head to face Ron. She raised her palm as if to say _Stop!_ and released a bolt of white light which collided with Ron’s outstretched hand.

Ron was bathed in white. He steadied himself on his feet, gnashing his teeth together in pain, and Hermione wished she could draw the light back, but she couldn’t. _This is necessary_.

She stood perfectly still until it ended. Ron’s eyes rolled as he collapsed to the ground in a motionless heap. Hermione left him and turned towards Harry. A jet of violet light shot from her palm to meet Harry’s hand, and it illuminated his entire body. Harry’s scar burned with violet flame as his face twisted in agony. Hermione watched as her best friend writhed with pain while she forced the light into him. When the beam of light ended Harry was crumpled in half, and he fell to the ground like a rag doll.

She turned on her heel and raised her hand to the third figure–

“ _HERMIONE!_ ”

Hermione felt something hard under her back. She was lying on the cool marble floor of Gringotts bank.

*** *** ***

Harry and Ron seized Hermione’s arms and lifted her off the floor into a chair. Bill was speaking Gobbledegook through the golden doorway.

Hermione barely heard the boys frantically whispering questions at her, trying to figure out what she’d seen.

“… what would’ve happened if Bill hadn’t pulled you away!” Ron was saying. “Blimey, Hermione, what in the name of Merlin’s socks–”

The vision was as sharp in her memory as a cinema screen, but she couldn’t tell them. She could never tell them.

Ginny slipped between the boys and knelt in front of her friend, forcing her to make eye contact. “You felt it again, didn’t you?” Ginny asked softly. “A shock? Like when you collapsed before …” Harry’s eyes went wide as he looked from Ginny to Hermione and back again.

“Hermione?” Ginny prompted gently. Hermione slowly, reluctantly nodded. Ron started pacing, his hands pulling at his overgrown red hair. Ginny held Hermione’s hands steady while Harry retrieved a glass of water for her.

Hermione gulped the water to distract herself as Bill returned. “Well, I’ve seen weird things with this mirror, but that was a new one. You OK, Hermione?” She nodded again. She set down the empty glass and rose to her feet, mostly steady. Thank Merlin her friends wouldn’t ask questions in front of Bill.

“Alright, you’ve all passed the test, so they’d like to take you down to the vaults,” Bill gestured as Bantok the goblin returned to the room. He bowed politely to the group and beckoned them to follow. Ron linked arms with Hermione to keep her steady on her feet as they crossed the magnificent jewel-clad hall once again and back through the golden double doors to the main atrium.

Bill followed as far as the golden doors. “I’ll be seeing you all Christmas morning at home,” he reminded them. “Be sure to owl me if anything comes up?” Ginny hugged him goodbye and his eyes flickered to Hermione for a split second over his sister’s shoulder.

Bantok led the Gryffindors through one of the many doors into a rattling cart, which sped familiarly down the tracks deep into the heart of Gringotts. The jerks and squeals of the cart drove Hermione’s bizarre experience out of her mind very quickly; she held tightly to Ron’s arm and tried not to look down. He knew her fear of heights and turned her so she could hide her face in his jumper.

They were travelling further than Hermione had ever been in the bank, and she couldn’t decide if she was more afraid of the height or the fact that as they lost height they were advancing farther underground, tickling her claustrophobia. The water she drank was churning in her stomach.

“Up ahead!” Ginny cried out suddenly. A fiercely pounding waterfall covered the entire width of the track. With a gasp and a shiver, all four of them – Bantok seemed unaffected – were drenched in water.

“I for … forgot about that thing,” Ron shivered. Hermione quickly pulled out her wand and cast spells to dry them off.

“The Thief’s Downfall,” Bantok said calmly as the cart continued to speed along. “It removes enchantments, disguises, and concealment spells.”

“That’s what they put over the gates of Hogwarts,” Hermione murmured to herself. The cart finally lurched to a halt in front of several large, unmarked bank vaults and she leapt from the cart gratefully.

“Good there’s no dragon this time,” Ron murmured under his breath. Hermione narrowed her brow in confusion, wondering why they would be returning to the Lestrange vault, of all things.

Bantok led them toward one of the vault doors and set down his lantern. “Mr. Potter, sir, I don’t know if you are aware that the Lestrange family line was completely extinguished in the recent war?” They had all seen Molly Weasley exterminate Bellatrix Lestrange with her motherly wrath, but this was the first they heard that the horrible woman’s husband and brother-in-law were also killed.

“Gringotts bank has unique magic upon it,” Bantok explained. “Old family vaults like this one are sealed with blood magic, so only those pertaining to a particular bloodline can safely retrieve an item from the vault. I believe upon your last visit the Replication and Conflagrant Charms were activated while you and your friend sought to remove the evil stored within.” Harry nodded once, and Ron winced slightly at the memory of burning gold.

“In the rare event that a family line is extinguished completely and no will is left behind, the blood magic is no longer effective. Instead, a different goblin-made enchantment is activated. In short, any witch or wizard still living, who previously entered the vault, is judged by the vault’s enchantments. The vault will bequeath ownership of the treasures to the most honorable witch or wizard. You and your friend, Mr. Potter, proved your worthiness and humility when you stepped before the Mirror of Erised. We goblins believe one or both of you to be the intended recipients of the Lestrange family treasure.”

Ron gaped openly and Harry looked confused. “But … we’re the ones who stole from it … our allies _took down_ this family–”

“It may be that your allies extinguished the family line,” the goblin said firmly. “But you did _not_ steal from the vault. As you know, you removed a great evil that should never have been housed here, and you claimed nothing within the vault for yourself. By the standards of goblin magic, Harry Potter, you are no thief. I believe the magic of the vault will recognize you and Mr. Weasley as its worthy owners.” Ron let out a sound like a squeak.

Bantok placed his palm on the door, which promptly opened. Hermione and Ginny gasped at the sheer size of the vault. It rivalled that of the Gryffindor common room and was packed floor-to-ceiling with pure golden objects, statues, trophies, jewels, mountains of coins …

The goblin coughed lightly and turned to Harry again. “If you would, Mr. Potter, please attempt to take an item from the vault and we shall know if we are correct. If by chance we were mistaken, the security charms on the vault will be activated once more.”

Harry nodded slowly and took one step into the vault. He could see the high shelf where Hufflepuff’s cup once sat, and a horrible shiver ran down his spine for a moment. He reached out carefully and took a jewel-encrusted goblet in his hand.

They all drew in breath and waited.

Nothing.

Bantok nodded towards Ron. “Young Mr. Weasley, if you would do the same.” Ron’s mouth still hadn’t closed all the way. He carefully extended his long arm and took the goblet that had been sitting beside Harry’s.

Nothing.

Ginny let out a squeak, Ron fell to his knees in disbelief, staring at the treasure in his hand, and Hermione was torn between bursting into applause and bursting into tears of joy.

Nobody on earth was more deserving of endless treasures than the humble Weasleys.

*** *** ***

Hermione and Ginny each allowed Harry to pass them a handful of coins from the Lestrange vault to fill their purses while the boys filled their pockets. With the need to visit their own vaults diminished, Bantok drove them straight back to the main atrium to decide what to do with their newfound wealth.

Harry and Ron required barely two minutes to agree that the contents of the vault would be split in equal fourths. One fourth was to go to the Weasley family vault and one fourth to the Potter family vault.

One fourth was to be moved to Hermione’s personal vault; she tried to stamp on this, but the boys wouldn’t take no for an answer and signed Bantok’s paperwork too quickly for her to issue further protests.

The remaining balance would be donated to Hogwarts. Harry smirked to himself at the image of Bellatrix Lestrange rolling over in her grave. It served her right for not leaving a will; no doubt her faith in Voldemort convinced her she was invincible.

In one of the happiest evenings of their lives, the four Gryffindors laughed with George and Lee in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, bought presents, ate sweets, and walked under the perfectly falling snow in Diagon Alley’s Christmas-lit wonder.

*** *** ***

After settling back into the Burrow and having far too much of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, the four friends met in Harry’s room to whisper in disbelief about the Lestrange treasure. They agreed to share the news with the rest of the Weasleys on Christmas Day; Ginny said quietly this year would be so hard as the first Weasley Christmas without Fred, and perhaps this would ease the family’s pain.

The talk of Gringotts made Hermione think yet again of the Mirror’s vision. It replayed itself in flashes of light which stuck to the inside of her eyelids. She was afraid to sleep and watch her friends’ agony over and over … agony _she_ caused, even though she had no idea how. It might help to share one of their rooms, but she didn’t want them to ask more questions she couldn’t answer.

Eventually Harry noticed Hermione’s silence and squeezed her hand in concern. She wanted to tell him she was alright, but she was frustrated. She all but tortured her friends in the vision; she’d hurt Anthony last month without intending to … was her magic spinning out of control? Perhaps the vision was warning her that she’d only get worse and hurt her friends eventually? Any time she practiced a wandless spell these days she had to whisper for fear it would be too strong. If it weren’t for the requirement in their classes, she wouldn’t dare to attempt wandless magic at all.

She was angry that a half-scribbled poem caused her so much anxiety. If there was any chance the Elemental Mage was real, the odds it was _her_ were utterly incalculable. More than anything, she wanted to tear up that parchment, refocus her magic – because surely it was acting up due to posttraumatic stress – and move forward with her career plans.

Unfortunately, she knew her stubborn friends with their open and hopeful minds would be impossible to convince to drop the whole idea – especially Harry and his predisposition to save everyone – so she knew she’d have to tolerate a little more nonsense before she could move on. Surely their search of Grimmauld Place would come up empty, or better yet they’d find the whole poem and prove inconclusively that it was rubbish.

Nightmares and magic aside, something bothered Hermione immensely. How could the goblins possibly believe she was trustworthy when the Mirror showed her that what she wanted most was to hurt the ones she loved?

*** *** ***


	10. Of Parties and Packages

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 10: Of Parties and Packages**

Draco and Blaise were engaged in a wizard’s chess battle over breakfast. Blaise was pleased his friend was speaking for once, even if he was just directing his stone pieces and not having any semblance of real conversation. For the past several months, Blaise became the voice for them both as Draco remained uncharacteristically quiet. Whether it was the loss of Crabbe and Goyle, his hidden crush, or his fear of being ostracized by their fellow students, Draco had become little more than a pale shadow in the corridors of Hogwarts, his personality only showing itself when he played Quidditch.

Blaise’s old snobby Slytherin mask vanished easily. Last year he embellished his hidden teasing side for Draco because it was all he could do to keep his friend steady, but he learned after spending time with Granger that he didn’t mind sharing that side of himself with others. He began making good friends thanks to his relaxed standards and the reduced need to act as a perfect Slytherin – and enjoyed flirting with attractive witches in the meantime. He patiently waited for the day when Malfoy would follow his example and relax a bit to allow his own social life to improve.

The glow of the Floo alighted their game and Theo swept in, brushing soot from his sleeves.

“Where were you, mate?” Blaise said jovially. “Thought you’d be joining us last night?”

“I forgot,” Theo said, stifling a yawn. He reached over and plucked a grape from Draco’s barely touched plate.

Draco looked up. “You didn’t sleep.” It wasn’t a question.

“Nope.”

Blaise sniggered. “Couldn’t take one night off studying, eh?”

“I wasn’t studying. I finally have access to the full Nott library.” The other boys exchanged matching smirks.

“Find six or seven _more_ subjects to master?” Draco ventured innocently.

Theo flopped into a seat and reached for more food. “I’m trying to research something else. There’s this old story I want to find.”

“You were gone all night; must be some story.”

“Well we know it’s not something raunchy,” Draco offered with a slight sneer. “Theo’s far too busy for anything fun–” Theo threw a grape at him. The other two returned to their game and allowed Theo time to eat and think in silence.

Theo already knew he’d need help since the library’s hidden wall proved much larger than expected, but he was concerned about telling them too much just yet regardless if they were two of the only people on the planet that he was willing to trust.

“Did either of your mothers read you _The Elemental Mage?_ ”

The chess players glanced at each other in surprise. Theo wasn’t one to bring up anybody’s mother in conversation. Blaise simply shook his head at the question, but Draco went slightly pink. “Isn’t that kind of a … witch’s fairy tale? The heroine sorceress who saves the world from all evil …”

Theo shook his head. “The heroine is the catalyst of the story, but she has five Guardians that channel her power and technically _they_ save the world. She’s just the source of their magic.”

Draco breathed a light sigh of relief. “Now I don’t feel so girly for liking that story.” Theo threw another grape at him with a smirk.

“It’s no big deal. Even though many of the ancients would disagree, witches are just as important in wizarding history.”

“So, what’s the story?” Blaise questioned.

“It’s a poem, actually, but I’m pretty sure it’s based on an old legend. I only remember some of it; I’ve been trying to find a copy since my moth– since I was little, but I’ve had no luck. Burned the hell out of my hand trying to reach the forbidden wall when I was twelve, and now I can finally search there.”

“Well, that’s as good a reason as any to stay up all night,” Draco muttered. “I take it you haven’t found it.”

“The forbidden wall is about four times larger than I expected. It would take me about a decade to go through every book.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t enjoy it.”

The next grape bounced firmly off Blaise’s forehead. Draco rolled his eyes and stood from the table. “We already know you’re going to ask for help, but you don’t need us. You need my mother.”

*** *** ***

Narcissa Malfoy was a woman of routine. Before the war, she had a strict schedule for waking early, dressing appropriately for the day’s events, and taking her morning tea – with one sugar – and raspberry scone in the garden tearoom, her favourite place in the world.

She didn’t share this time with anyone else. Lucius would be occupied with his early-morning business dealings through the Floo, and Draco would have a lie-in if he weren’t away at school. Her peaceful morning was one of the hardest things for Narcissa to sacrifice when the Dark Lord’s presence invaded her home and removed all memory of serenity from the building.

Now even though her husband was gone for nearly a decade to come and her son was but a sullen shadow of his former self, Narcissa closed her eyes and sipped her tea, grateful that some semblance of normalcy returned to her exhausted life.

House arrest was hardly a punishment. She’d been itching to redesign her home from top to bottom, to remove all presence of her broken sister and her snooping brother-in-law, to remove the memory of the poor souls who had been imprisoned here, and to remove all traces of _him_.

This was the first room she restored. Soft tendrils of ivy curled up the slender Greco-Roman columns supporting the peaked crystalline glass roof, through which beams of morning sun streamed in all colours. Her comfortable robin’s egg blue settee faced the largest window, and she set her teacup gently on the delicately carved rowan table before her. This room allowed her to believe all was right with the world, even for a few precious moments.

After giving birth to her son, she brought him to this room and his tiny hand clutched onto a tendril of ivy. She’d glanced up through the crystalline roof and could just make out the ever-present constellation in the lingering deep blue sky of early morning. _Draco._

The precious object of her musings stepped lightly into the room to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, Mother. Theo has a favour to request if you don’t mind?”

Far from minding, Narcissa was pleased. Despite what she convinced her son, she was indeed a little lonely, and she wished for little more than her son’s friends to restore life to her quiet home.

*** *** ***

Narcissa was kind, Blaise thought. Even though she sneakily tricked him into slipping that Draco was interested in Granger – _which she kept from Draco so far, thank Merlin_ – she quickly recognized that Theo would not speak about his mother beyond a brief mention of the poem, and Narcissa didn’t pry. She promptly swept the boys into the library and directed them to a collection of volumes written by seventeenth-century alchemists.

“I’ve no written copy of the poem myself,” Narcissa admitted. “When Draco was young, I recited it from memory. I read it myself in my family’s old library, which I can no longer access, I’m afraid.

“These books here, however, may reference the poem. The story was long thought to be a prophecy hidden in verse, and I heard of one alchemist who spent decades analyzing the verse to try and understand it. I cannot say for sure that a copy of his work is to be found here, but it’s as likely a place to start as any.”

Theo expressed his gratitude and dove right in. Draco helped so he’d have an excuse to read quietly for a little while.

Blaise had a favour to uphold, and he promptly began planning.

*** *** ***

Christmas was nothing short of a fairy tale for young Draco Malfoy. All pomp and circumstance were removed and there were no expectations for the entire day except to be happy. He could spend the day in his pajamas, tear open a mountain of presents, make a mess, ride his broomstick indoors, and eat sweets all day if he liked.

The return of Voldemort drastically changed Christmas. The mood was sombre, gifts became minimal and practical, sweets were restricted to a quiet after-dinner pudding, and if Draco left his bedroom in pajamas, he’d more than likely be spotted by an intruding Death Eater. Obligatory black robes were all he could don at home for the past three years, nobody laughed or smiled, and he could barely remember how happy Christmas was supposed to be.

Now with Lucius back in prison, Draco worried about his mother’s happiness this Christmas. Since Blaise was acquainted with Christmas traditions from all over Europe thanks to his travels, Draco begged his friend to implement as many beautiful things into the holiday as possible. Blaise rarely spent two Christmases in a row with the same people – except his unenthusiastic mother – and they knew Theo’s childhood had been bereft of the Christmas joy Draco was used to, so his friend leapt at the chance to make a spectacular holiday for the four of them.

By the time Blaise was done, the Manor was littered with holly branches, garlands, clove-stuck fruit, and bright red everlasting candles. Glittering silver and gold Christmas trees adorned the entire main floor, enchanted snow fell from the eaves outside every window, Yule logs were tossed in each fire, and the house-elves had great fun learning to make various homemade sweets from all over Europe, which they happily served on well-stocked silver platters for the entire holiday.

On Christmas Eve, Blaise directed the house-elves through preparing a twelve-course meal including fried carp, after a Polish tradition he’d picked up from stepfather number five. Theo and Draco fit a surprising amount of food into their skinny frames, and Blaise was impressed with Narcissa’s tolerance with the large meal. Blaise eagerly built his appetite by doubling his standard workout routine earlier in the day and happily put away the leftovers.

Later, they indulged in a warm spiced wine called _glogg_ which Blaise had learned to make in Norway. The group sipped away at the wine while they enjoyed some parlour games. Theo wasn’t known for holding his liquor, but the pleasant day seemed to keep him stable enough to drink three mugs and still be able to find his way to bed at night’s end. Blaise had no trouble keeping his head straight; Draco had two sips of the wine and flatly refused to try more, preferring to stick with his Firewhisky.

Narcissa drank nearly as much wine as Blaise and began to truly unwind for the first time in Draco’s memory. To the boys’ great amusement, their ever-proper hostess kicked her shoes off, tossed back her hair, laughed at Blaise’s inappropriate comments, and kept kissing them all on the cheeks and telling them, “Oh you’re just so tall, all you lot, you’re so grown up and so handsome … and you’re all my sons now so just shush and no argu-ma-ments.”

*** *** ***

Christmas morning Hermione awoke at the Burrow, finally having achieved a peaceful sleep in the aftermath of her vision from the Mirror of Erised. She dressed rapidly before Summoning all the presents that appeared at the end of her bed into her arms and bounding down the stairs. She’d been dreading today, but her surrogate family was incredible at reinstating her Christmas spirit.

Last night, the Weasleys discussed past Christmases over cocoa. It was standard practice to open presents in bed before gathering for breakfast, but after being asked about her own traditions, Hermione softly explained that her little family always gathered by the Christmas tree first thing in the morning to open their presents together and share in each other’s joy. Mrs. Weasley wiped several tears away before firmly announcing to the entire room that they would do the same this year, for Hermione.

Filled with equal parts sadness and joy, Hermione gave Molly the biggest hug she could muster. Molly murmured to her how grateful she was to have her and Harry in their family, especially as they partially filled the gaping hole everyone still felt.

Hermione was surprised she’d slept in a little and the rest of the family was already waiting in the living room for her around the red and gold Christmas tree. “Took you long enough!” Ron moaned in anxiety. There was a large chorus of “Happy Christmas” going around the room and Hermione thought her smile might freeze permanently as she dropped happily to the rug between Harry and Charlie. Molly and Ginny handed around mugs of eggnog as Hermione suggested one person start with their gifts so the others could watch, then the gift opening would move around the room. Ginny, as the youngest, was elected to start by a booming Arthur Weasley, who was on his fourth serving of eggnog.

The gift opening circled the room as the cheery Weasleys unwrapped their homemade sweets and jumpers – Ron gratefully kissed his mother for making him a navy-blue jumper instead of maroon. Harry gave Ginny a gold charm bracelet dangling with Quidditch balls, hoops, and broomsticks, and blushed head to toe at the thrilled kiss she planted on him. Harry was teary-eyed but equally happy to open a plush snowy owl from her.

Charlie presented Hermione with a copy of a law he’d helped pass through the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. This was the first law to address house-elf abuse in any form: any wizard with a reported case of house-elf abuse would be investigated, and if they were found guilty after their first warning they would be required to surrender the elf to the Department, whereupon the elf would be free to seek a more deserving family. Charlie blushed bright red when Hermione gratefully kissed him on the cheek, and they both ignored Ron’s sniggers.

Mrs. Weasley giggled excessively when George presented her with the latest Wheezes: a set of kitchen implements shaped like magical creatures. They all laughed heartily when Percy examined the Niffler spatula, which promptly tried to nibble on his shiny zipper.

Hermione thought she reached the bottom of her pile of presents, but she retrieved a small envelope stuck to her box of treacle fudge from the Weasleys. Her name was written in an unfamiliar hand. “Where did this come from?” she wondered aloud.

Molly looked over. “Oh, that came by owl yesterday, dear.” Hermione opened the envelope and extracted a small note. She unfolded it and read:

_“Great wisdom I may carry,_

_Although no brains have I.”_

Harry looked over her shoulder. “What’s that about?”

“It’s a riddle … the answer should be a book.” Hermione replied slowly. Sure enough, the note promptly reshaped itself into an origami book, which glowed for a moment and hardened into a silver charm in her palm.

“Oh!” Molly exclaimed as everyone else looked on, confused. “Hermione, you’ve been given a Link charm!”

“A what?” Six different voices asked.

“Oh, it’s so romantic!” Molly sniffed loudly and Hermione wondered how much eggnog the older witch had consumed. “It’s an ancient custom dear, a small piece of truesilver would be gifted to a witch as a promise to one day ask for her hand in marriage!” Every Weasley and surrogate Weasley in the room felt their jaw drop.

“Er … Mum you’ve never told me this before–” Ginny stuttered.

“Oh, well, it’s an ancient practice now, dear, hardly anyone does it anymore since obviously silver is much easier to come by – y’know, I think my great-grandfather Prewett asked his wife to marry him with the charms – you see, it became a tradition among wizards that several silver Links would be given to a witch secretively, and once she received four or five they would link up to form a bracelet, which would protect her from harm – of course, it’s not as good as a properly cast Shield Charm, you know, but it’s really the thought that counts and it’s just so _romantic_ –” Percy rapidly cut off his rambling mother and ushered her towards the kitchen for some coffee while everyone else continued to stare at Hermione.

“It’s … charm … marriage?” Ron managed to stammer.

“Well clearly it wasn’t from any of you oblivious blokes,” Ginny huffed at her brothers. “So, who’s got their eyes on Hermione?”

Hermione held the little charm very tightly in her hand and did not speak.

*** *** ***

The excitement of the morning continued as Mrs. Weasley put together a marvellous brunch with the help of her new utensils, even though the dragon tongs kept sneezing and overheating the sausages. Ron had grown quiet, which nobody noticed until he ignored the pancakes being passed to him by Charlie.

“Ron, what’s the matter? You can’t possibly be full–” Percy and George stopped eating and stared openly at their ever-starving little brother.

“Eh? Oh, sorry. Thanks.” Ron accepted the pancake platter but simply passed it on to Ginny. George opened his mouth to ask but was cut off by a knock at the door.

“Happy Christmas!” Bill swooped through the door accompanied by a flurry of snow and a very pregnant Fleur. For a few minutes everyone greeted each other exchanging kisses and presents and slightly burnt sausages. Fleur handed around some delicate French truffles from her family and praised Molly for the maternity-sized jumper in pale blue, making the older woman beam.

Ginny and Hermione excitedly asked Fleur about the baby – Ginny had grown to love her sister-in-law and only referred to her as Phlegm every other month or so. Fleur whispered that they were expecting a girl, but she hadn’t told Bill yet. Bill secretly hoped for a baby girl since he already had so many little brothers.

After Bill and Fleur were sufficiently fed and pampered, Molly directed her attention back to her youngest son. “Now Ronald Bilius, you will tell us all why you’re being so moody on Christmas Day and you’ll stop immediately, because I will have none of it!”

“Scared that Hermione’s being courted by someone else, Ronniekins?” Charlie teased as Hermione went pink.

“No way,” George immediately replied. “He’s concerned his boyfriend is courting Hermione behind his back.” It had been such a long time since George made a joke that everyone burst into laughter, including Ron, which seemed to make him perk up.

“Naw, we talked about that ages ago.” Ron threw his arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “She’s like my second sister, really.” A few of the Weasleys looked mildly surprised, except for Mrs. Weasley, who was clearly trying to hide a flash of disappointment. “I’m not moody, Mum, just thinking. And I’m thinking we should all take a walk, eh?” Ron looked to Ginny for approval, who nodded and leapt to her feet.

“Bill, goblins don’t celebrate Christmas, is that right?” Hermione ventured casually.

Bill seemed confused, but replied, “No … the bank is open today. Why?”

*** *** ***

Harry entertained the Weasleys on their casual stroll through Diagon Alley with the tale of his and Ron’s Gringotts break-in, of which Molly and Arthur clearly had no knowledge. Hermione suspected the lingering effect of eggnog was the only reason they didn’t magically release parental fury on their youngest son and his reckless best friend.

Everyone was enraptured by the tale. Harry timed it perfectly; they entered the bank and Bantok immediately recognized them and dashed over to assist. At a whispered request from Harry, the goblin bowed the confused Weasleys through the doors, and two carts zipped the lot of them down to the Weasley vault. Molly had gone quite pale when Ron asked her to bring the vault key along. Their vault was usually empty after Christmas, which Ron knew perfectly well.

When they reached the vault, Harry briefly recounted their meeting with Bill – leaving out the Mirror – and concluded by saying that the contents of the Lestrange’s vault now belonged to all of them. Right on cue, Bantok took Mrs. Weasley’s key and unlocked the door to the previously dusty vault – now filled with mountains of treasures.

Molly promptly fainted into her husband’s arms, George fell to his knees in shock, Charlie picked up Harry and spun him round in circles, Percy kept reassuring his father _No, this isn’t a dream_ , and Ginny helped Fleur hold her husband steady on two feet as he spluttered in confusion in half-English and half-Gobbledegook. Ron produced a Pepperup Potion Ginny had slipped him earlier and roused his mother.

Even fifteen minutes later, Hermione and Ginny stood safely off to the side watching happily as Harry and Ron slowly suffocated in the arms of the crying, hugging, and kissing Weasleys.

*** *** ***

Though Molly Weasley would never choose a favourite child, it certainly seemed Ron was in the lead based on how much she spoiled him for the rest of the holiday. Hermione was relieved they already had plans to relocate to Grimmauld Place for a while; Ron’s head – and stomach – certainly didn’t need to grow any bigger.

In between snowball fights and four or five meals a day there was much exchange of information about Hogwarts and the Ministry. Ginny told the enthusiastic Weasley patriarch about Muggle Studies classes – she patiently corrected her father’s pronunciation often – and he wanted to inquire about guest lecturing in the new year. Hermione and Harry exchanged a smile at that, doubting Arthur’s information would be even close to accurate, but knowing his enthusiasm for Muggle culture would be a good breath of fresh air for the prejudiced students.

Charlie assured Hermione that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would accept her regardless of her NEWT scores if she desired a position. They spent many hours discussing elf and werewolf rights and illegal dragon importing.

Percy and Harry spent a surprising amount of time together discussing the Auror department and the ongoing search for remaining Death Eaters. Very few had yet to be caught, and it was believed that the stragglers had left the country. Percy praised Harry up and down for his brilliant ideas and promised to get him an interview with Robards the minute he graduated – Harry didn’t have the heart to tell Percy that he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to join the Auror team, but Ron listened in with interest.

In between discussions with Charlie, Hermione talked with Bill about curse-breaking. He joked that after everything she’d survived, the dangers of the job would be like a holiday for her. “You’ll never encounter another horcrux, I promise,” he said with a chuckle.

On New Year’s Eve with their packed bags in tow, the four Gryffindors bid farewell to the Burrow and Harry led the way through the Floo into his godfather’s old house. The quartet promptly sneezed at the layer of dust coating every surface. Kreacher had bravely given his life leading the other house-elves during the Battle of Hogwarts, and Harry steadfastly refused to employ another elf.

The group traipsed through the house obliterating dust and piles of mouse droppings. Nobody had entered since it was searched by Death Eaters after Hermione unintentionally brought Yaxley to the property. The place was a disaster, but two bedrooms were found to still be in decent shape for them to camp out for a couple of days.

Harry and Ginny were already making long-term plans to clean the place up for summertime; he’d asked her several weeks earlier to live with him after they finished school. Ron had a habit of feigning deafness anytime the subject was breached.

“So, where d’you reckon a library would be in this place?” Ron wondered loudly after they dumped their belongings, eager to ignore Harry and Ginny’s conversation about wood floors versus rugs. “Attic or basement?”

“Basement,” Hermione replied automatically. “Even with protective enchantments, old volumes – especially those made of vellum – are more safely stored at lower temperatures–”

“Basement. Got it.”

*** *** ***

As a rather spoiled child, Draco was accustomed to being taken care of. His leadership role over Crabbe and Goyle hadn’t hurt, nor had the interest Blaise took in the last few years to watch his back. Though far too proud to admit it, he was grateful for his best friend and didn’t know how to repay him other than sharing the Manor. Blaise’s mother didn’t mind her son’s distance provided he sent a monthly letter, so Blaise fit comfortably into the little Malfoy family.

Since Draco wasn’t used to taking care of other people, it was fortunate Blaise didn’t need much from their friendship. But after last summer when their other friend had a supremely difficult day and then disappeared off the face of the earth for eight weeks, Draco had found himself inexplicably concerned about Theo’s wellbeing and began to wonder if this was how Blaise felt during their sixth year.

Draco couldn’t sleep the first night of holidays since Theo hadn’t shown up to the Manor. For hours he battled the urge to Floo to Nott Estates to find out if his friend fled the country again. Now halfway through the Christmas holidays, Theo barely ate or slept because he was searching desperately for a children’s story. He refused to tell them what sparked his random obsession and, quite apart from worrying about his friend, Draco wasn’t a fan of anyone keeping secrets. He determined to figure out what Theo was up to.

*** *** ***


	11. Of Legends and Libraries

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 11: Of Legends and Libraries**

The darkened corridor at the base of Grimmauld Place was dingy and had only four doors leading from it. After an hour of searching the rooms, Harry and company discovered old clothing storage and various pieces of broken furniture. Otherwise, the rooms were empty but for several crumbling bat skeletons.

“This is a waste of time,” Ginny sighed as she wiped her dusty hands on her jeans. “Couldn’t we find out if one of the other old families has a library we can borrow?”

“The Abbotts might … urgh.” Ron answered as he peered into a box half-filled with shrunken heads. “I dunno about Neville. I know the Malfoys do, but you couldn’t pay me to set foot in that place again–” Harry elbowed him to make him shut up, but Hermione didn’t notice. She was bent over studying the wall above a pile of mouse droppings with a frown. “Hermione?”

She didn’t answer but pulled out her wand and nonverbally illuminated the room. She then pressed her wand to a tiny tear in the faded wallpaper and whispered, “ _Diffindo._ ” The paper tore straight across the vast wall. Hermione grasped one corner and Ron jogged to the other side of the room to grab the other. They pulled the wallpaper away to reveal a fresco beneath.

“Er … is a _painting_ of a library any help?” Ron asked skeptically.

The fresco depicted a high, vaulted room with towering shelves of books, lit by a splendid crystal chandelier. Along the top of the fresco in curling script read _The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_. The paint had been applied directly to the slightly crumbling stone wall which must be part of the original foundation of the house. Hermione guessed it dated back a few hundred years.

“This is cool,” Ginny mused. “Think the way into the library is through this thing?”

“Harry would have to open a door, if there is one,” Hermione pointed out. “He’s the owner of the house.” Harry reached past her and gently put his hand on the cold painted stone. Nothing happened.

“Wait a second, Harry isn’t a Black, is he?” Ron said. “If he doesn’t have Black blood, he may not be able to open a door.”

“I think this could be similar to the vault though,” Hermione suggested. “Harry is the legal master of the house, and the house should recognize him just as Kreacher did.”

Harry’s keen eyes noticed a detail in the fresco that might’ve slipped his notice if Hermione hadn’t lit the room. Under “ _The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black”_ in tiny golden print read “ _animus ex libris._ ”

“The heart of the library?” Hermione translated when Harry pointed it out. Ron’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Here!” Ginny pointed at one of the painted bookshelves. “This book has a little heart on it.”

Harry reached over and pressed his thumb against the tiny painted heart. With a rumbling sound, the fresco split down the middle and the two halves of the wall slid smoothly apart. The four stepped through cautiously and candlelight flooded the space.

Ron whistled. “I think we found Hermione-Heaven.”

*** *** ***

Despite having spent nearly the entire holiday researching the cold Nott library and the overstuffed Malfoy one, Theo had little luck finding more about the _Mage Elementum_. Several books referenced the poem but didn’t tell him anything new. One author stated plainly that any alchemists who viewed the legend as prophecy were lunatics and didn’t mention it further.

Narcissa recited as much of the poem as she could recall for Theo’s benefit, but unfortunately it was about the same amount he recalled himself, and there wasn’t nearly enough detail. He tried very hard not to think of how Narcissa’s soft voice was remarkably like his own mother’s, or that he overheard Narcissa telling Draco that she’d been the one to tell the story to Theo’s mother when the boys were little.

On New Year’s Eve, Theo finally struck gold. About twenty feet up the forbidden wall, Theo retrieved a dusty seventeenth-century volume covered in alchemist’s symbols. A cursory flip through the contents told him this was the work Narcissa had mentioned. Each verse of the poem was analyzed in detail and compared to the theories of previous alchemists, some of which Theo read earlier in the Malfoy’s collection.

Unlike the other works, though, this unique volume contained a full copy of the poem.

Unfortunately, Theo’s face lit up and Draco noticed quickly. He promptly Summoned the book from the base of the ladder and ran off with it before Theo had time to react. His sneaky friend was determinedly holding the book hostage at Malfoy Manor until Theo would admit the real reason he was suddenly obsessed with this poem.

Sometimes Theo wished his only friends weren’t Slytherins.

*** *** ***

New Years’ Eve was drawing to a close, but Hermione and her surrogate siblings were still combing the Noble and Most Ancient Library of Black for clues regarding the Elemental Mage.

It was nearly the size of Hogwarts’ library. The fresco had hardly done it justice; the vaulted ceiling soared above their heads and the crystal chandelier flooding the room in candlelight was as tall as Ron. Hermione quickly determined the organisational system. At Hogwarts, books were shelved by subject and subsequently grouped into smaller chunks. Here, the contents of the shelves seemed to be labelled by a rune carved into the end of each bookcase.

“These books all pertain to protective magic,” Hermione murmured as she pulled books off the shelves to examine them. “The rune here means _shield._ And this one … this is _mask._ All the books on this shelf pertain to disguise and secrecy.” Hermione gave the others her rune translation books and quickly copied out several to locate.

“I found the shelf for children!” Ron finally called out.

“Great!” Hermione called back from the other end of the room. “Let us know if you find the poem and we’ll keep looking for alchemy or anything about the elements.”

“Does the ocean count?” Ginny asked, brow furrowed. Hermione shook her head.

“How about fire?” Harry ventured from the other direction. He had one of Hermione’s books in his hand as he studied the symbol in front of him. Hermione came over to look through the titles of the books on Harry’s shelf.

“Fire may lead somewhere, but it seems this section is more to do with spells pertaining to fire rather than the significance of its elemental form. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick look …”

“That was a dead end,” Ron said as he came to join them. “The section on children was all magical child-rearing and cleaning spells for nappies.” He shuddered. “No fairy tales.”

“Got it!” Ginny had disappeared, but the others followed her voice through the stacks. Instead of a bookshelf however, Ginny pointed to a door nestled in the back corner of the library, barely visible beneath cobwebs. On the door’s tarnished silver plate was the runic symbol for alchemy.

Hermione excitedly moved towards the door, but Harry stopped her. “Maybe I should? Just in case?” Harry approached the door but realized it had no knob. He placed his palm on the silver plate, and the door glowed briefly before vanishing.

“Cool,” Ron said simply. Harry led the way through the door and illuminated the room within. Ginny’s eyes went wide, and Hermione sighed in exasperation.

The alchemy chamber was about the size of their Charms classroom and overstuffed with books, scrolls, and artefacts. A cursory glance at the differently-sized shelves and dusty, haphazard piles told Hermione this room did not follow a standard system of organisation.

Ron looked through the door and groaned, “We might be here ‘til Easter.”

*** *** ***

Though Draco was curious about Theo’s random obsession, he was also desperate to get Blaise’s focus off himself for a change. He liked that his friend cared about him, but Blaise couldn’t solve his current problem and Draco preferred to forget about it for a while.

He and Blaise lured Theo to the Malfoy drawing room. But being Slytherins, they didn’t bring the book Theo wanted. Instead, they prodded him with questions.

“What’s so special about this one story?”

“Did you find a witch you want to marry, and you need the story to tell _your_ kids?”

“Did you find a _wizard_ you wanna marry–?”

“You’ve always been obsessed, mate, but with books and tests and stuff,” Blaise insisted. “Obsession with a poem from childhood is just bizarre.”

“We already know what happened to your mother, so if this is about her–”

“You watch your mouth, Draco Malfoy.” Theo wasn’t known to get angry, but he was close. “Just give me the damned book; it belongs to _me_.”

Draco merely shrugged his shoulders. Theo knew his friend had already hidden it somewhere and suspected the Manor was full of enchanted spaces which protected against Summoning, as he’d already tried and failed to retrieve the volume that way.

“What are you expecting to hear?” Theo finally spat. “I intend to become an alchemist and make it my life’s work to study children’s stories, or I have an unprecedented obsession with mages? Perhaps I believe memorizing my mother’s favourite piece of verse will bring her back?”

Blaise flinched but Draco was steady. He stared down his tall friend and realized something. “Mother said this poem was thought to be a prophecy in verse,” he said slowly. “The story says the Mage is supposed to save the world from shadow … you think its _true_.”

Blaise studied Theo interestedly. “You _were_ always interested in Divination …”

Theo snorted. “I’m no Seer, so the class was effectively useless to me.”

“And yet, you studied it right through to OWLs and aced every exam,” Draco said triumphantly.

“And he looked all funny after the Sorting Hat’s weird song predicting danger!”

Theo was stone-faced, but he wasn’t the greatest actor, nor did he have Draco’s skill with Occlumency. The cunning Slytherins broke into matching smirks when Theo couldn’t provide a decent argument.

He swallowed, trying to decide if he’d rather risk not getting the book back or risk bringing them in on his suspicions. He still wasn’t sure, and it would certainly require some cunning manipulation …

“Give me the book, and I’ll tell you what I think,” Theo bargained after a long silence. Draco turned on his heel to leave the room and Blaise clapped Theo on the shoulder.

“Knew you’d come around, mate! So, this could be fun. You think we can find a beautiful sorceress out there and convince her to save the world?”

Theo smiled internally but replied, “Unlike the fairy tales, it’s never that simple.”

*** *** ***

“Fire Sorceress?”

“No, Harry, that’s about witch burning.”

“This section talks about the elements, but it only mentions four.”

“I think this poem here is about water … or maybe tea.”

“No, whiskey.”

“Hang on, Nicolas Flamel was an alchemist, right?”

“Well, he’s dead, so we can’t really ask him …”

For several hours, the exhausted friends tunneled through the contents of the alchemy room periodically sneezing. Harry and Ginny pored over books using translation references, Ron flipped through materials containing English text, and Hermione moved around the room inspecting the artefacts and scrolls of mixed text in various languages.

“I’m starting to think we’ve already seen the poem, but it wasn’t copied out in English or runes,” Hermione sighed. “And my French isn’t good enough to recognize all the words of the poem, much less ancient Greek …”

Ginny’s eyes were swimming at the page she was trying to decipher, and she blinked fiercely. She glanced up at her bushy-haired friend. “Hermione, are you really going with us on this Mage thing now? You don’t seem to be as opposed as you were.”

“I’m still not completely certain,” Hermione answered distractedly. “But I don’t think it’s fair to make further assumptions without reading the whole thing; I mean, we don’t have any other clue what the Hat was talking ab– I found it!”

*** *** ***

“OK, I’ve no bloody idea what this means,” Blaise rubbed his eyes in the dim firelight and shoved the alchemist’s book, open to the poem, back at Theo.

Theo sighed and picked up the tome. “Poetry is often ambiguous, and rarely meant to be literal. For a while, I suspected the _Mage_ might not be a person, but a magical being or perhaps a creature that generated a strong soul–”

“Aren’t all souls the same?” Draco asked, confused.

“The soul isn’t something that can be measured, but it stands to reason that each soul is as unique as each individual.” Theo said thoughtfully. “It’s possible one soul holds more power than another. Professor Thomas Banbridge of Cornwall actively suggested the soul was the center of each person, the root of all their life force and magical power … and then there’s Edna Reichert who argued that those with weaker souls return as ghosts because they aren’t strong enough to reach the afterlife–”

“OK, OK, enough with the lecture,” Blaise cut him off. “Blimey, Theo, why weren’t you put in Ravenclaw?” Theo pursed his lips but said nothing. Blaise made similar comments regularly.

“This is interesting,” Draco mused with a smirk as one pale finger traced the verse. “… _rivalled only by she, great wisdom bestows._ So, the Mage is wicked smart, and one of her Guardians is also smart, but only beaten by her–”

Blaise coughed into his hand, not quite muting the word _Granger._ Draco shot him a death glare. “I _meant_ maybe Theo thinks _he’s_ one of the Guardians.”

Blaise sat up straight, a huge grin on his face. “Oh, Salazar’s saggy trousers, that is so _precious_ …” Theo snatched the book off the table and promptly made for the fireplace.

Blaise complained, “Oh c’mon Theo, this was getting fun.”

Draco flicked his wand causing the Floo to slam shut. Theo’s face burned as he was forced to turn back to the snarky blond. “Master of Malfoy Manor,” Draco drawled, twirling his wand in his long fingers.

“I thought you would be grateful for my departure, Draco,” Theo said sweetly. “Since you probably didn’t want me and Blaise to discuss how head-over-heels in love you are with Hermione Granger.”

Draco froze and Blaise leapt out of his seat. “Hell yes!”

Draco stood slowly, furious. He cast a quick Silencing Charm to prevent Blaise from saying anything – Blaise let out a soundless whine of protest – while Theo lazily blocked the warning hex Draco sent in his direction.

“You know, Draco, your actions are doing nothing but confirming our suspicions.” Theo drawled. He returned to the table and tented his fingers beneath his chin, smirking at the red-faced Malfoy. Blaise nodded fiercely and sat, mirroring Theo’s position.

“Nott,” Draco growled. “You just want us to lay off _you_.”

“Perhaps,” Theo shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve suspected you had feelings for Granger for a long time, and it never occurred to you to trust me, did it? Perhaps I’d be more likely to share my thoughts if my dearest friends were willing to share their own.”

 _That bloody look in his eyes …_ Draco had seen that before.

_“I believe information shouldn’t be freely given unless deserved. Knowledge is power, and it must be EARNED.”_

Granger and Nott were two of a kind. Both unfailingly clever and both destined to annoy the hell out of him. Draco reluctantly removed the Silencing Charm from Blaise and returned to his seat, taking a long drink of his Firewhisky. He wasn’t sure his friendly concern for Theo’s sanity was enough to outweigh his desire to stay silent about Granger.

Blaise happily looked between Draco and Theo with the most Slytherin of smirks practically illuminating his dark skin. “Alright gentlemen, who shall spill their innermost thoughts and desires first?! Shall we have Theo tell us all about how he wants to be a mighty Guardian with his golden brain and help the Mage save the world? Or will Draco spill all the nasty things he thought about Granger when he had her trapped in his bedroom last year?” Theo raised an amused eyebrow at Draco, who fumed and wondered why he was still hosting these two traitors.

“You were there too, and you know damn well I never touched her.” Draco hissed though clenched teeth at Blaise.

“A defenceless Gryffindor witch trapped in a room with two sultry Slytherin snakes?” Theo asked, bemused. “Oh, I do believe this story takes the cauldron cake.”

Theo knew Draco kept Hermione prisoner and ultimately let her go, but he hadn’t known the details. Blaise filled him in on how they had to keep her locked away before the Battle of Hogwarts. Theo chuckled to himself as he imagined captive and powerless Hermione arrogantly correcting their homework.

Draco downed the rest of his drink and stared at the ceiling, wondering how he could get out of the room when they all knew Theo’s quick casting and Blaise’s inhuman speed would stop him easily.

“Well, even if nothing actually _happened_ ,” Theo leered at Draco. “Clearly there was more than enough time for you to study her up close and memorize her curly hair and her deep brown eyes … and the lovely shape of her hips and her–” Draco shot a Stinging Jinx at him, but Theo blocked it easily.

“Wow Theo,” Blaise laughed. “You sure you’re not in love with Granger, too?”

“Hardly,” Theo scoffed. “I pay attention to anyone I view as a possible threat, and she’s top of the list. She’s the only one who has bested me in nearly every exam; I would be a fool to not keep an eye on her.”

“Theo only gets hot for books,” Draco muttered, desperate to direct Blaise’s attention elsewhere. Theo lazily returned the Stinging Jinx, which grazed Draco’s arm and made him flinch.

“Speaking of books …” Blaise finally decided to pick on his other friend, and Draco breathed in relief. Blaise reached over and tapped the alchemist’s book in Theo’s hands. “Tell us all your brave and daring plans to become a noble Guardian, bond with the sorceress, and save the world!”

*** *** ***

Harry, Ginny, and Ron dropped what they were doing and joined Hermione in the corner of the room where the dust was thickest. Ron impatiently banished some of the dust and looked over Hermione’s shoulder at the battered scroll she’d unrolled. The text was in English, with runes across the top of the page.

Hermione raced back to the table Harry and Ginny had been using to retrieve her translation dictionary. “Here, this piece at the top is a notation about the poem.” She scribbled the translation on a scrap of parchment and laid it out with the scroll.

_Prophecy by Seer Elvira van Kant, heard and recorded by me, Mortimus Castor Black, 1595_

_THE MAGE ELEMENTUM_

_To a world unprepared she graces her steps,_

_From an unheard blood, to a world in duress._

_Although powerful she, but not yet foreseen,_

_True power unlike those but wildest of dreams._

_Great thunder befalls on her nineteenth year,_

_Her power awakens but causes much fear._

_A shadow perceives; she remains unaware,_

_It seeks to destroy the pure soul in her care._

_This shadow of Hell causes all things to die,_

_Misfortune and chaos, great wrath in its eye._

_Past the edge of the world it steadies its ground,_

_Desiring to kill, to spread fear all around._

_The shadow begins now to hunt for her soul,_

_To snuff out the Light, lest her heart gain control._

_Though against her power the Darkness holds fast,_

_So afraid and alone, her soul will not last._

_Though powerful she, and much evil condone,_

_No chance to defeat the great Shadow alone._

_Hope only rings true when her spirit is whole,_

_Five more at her side seek to bond with her soul:_

_Herodius Wise; like the water he flows,_

_Rivalled only by she, great wisdom bestows._

_Meditor of Battle; like wind he does fly,_

_Great tactics of power with which he will guide._

_Lupus the Warrior; a champion of fire,_

_The shadow he faces to bring down his ire._

_Animus, Great Soul; with his energy soars,_

_The leader of courage and strength, most adored._

_Alitis her Heart; though at first unaware,_

_To her gentle love will no other compare._

_Like earth to her anchored, forever entwined,_

_To her soul he’s last bound, though not far behind._

_Only when joined is there chance for defeat,_

_The demons and shadows, they cannot compete._

_Five Guardians, their souls and magic combined:_

_She destroys all Darkness and leaves Light behind._

“Oh, my …” Ginny gasped when she finished reading. Harry’s finger traced the words and he choked. How could a battered scroll of parchment make him feel as though a key had just turned a lock in his mind that he didn’t know existed?

“OK,” Ron finally said. “Is it … Hermione?”

They turned to look at her, but she was gone.

*** *** ***


	12. Of Theories and Truth

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 12: Of Theories and Truth**

“ _From an unheard blood?_ ” Ron said, confused.

“She’s Muggle-born,” Ginny whispered. “She didn’t come from a wizarding family, so her name isn’t known.”

“OK, we already know there was thunder on her nineteenth birthday …” Harry began, trying to ignore the shaking in his hands. “That would mean her power awoke that day, and _caused much fear_ …”

“Bloody right,” Ginny muttered. “I was terrified, I thought she’d been poisoned or something.”

“You’re not the only one who was afraid,” Harry reminded her slowly. “Remember what happened with Anthony Goldstein? Everyone’s terrified Gangrous’ll pick them to duel with her next.”

“What in Godric’s name is this _shadow of Hell_ that wants to destroy her?” Ron hissed angrily. Harry clenched his fist and tightened his lips.

“You two …” Ginny murmured to herself, eyes flickering between the boys’ reactions. Ron raised an eyebrow at his sister, but Harry kept his eyes on the parchment. “I’m totally convinced you’re two of her Guardians.” Ginny announced. “It’s like you’ve got this … this _instinct_ to protect her.”

“It’s always been like that,” Harry argued. “We’ve cared about her for ages–”

“No, Ginny’s onto something,” Ron countered. “I know I’ve always cared; even in first year we weren’t friends yet but we both went to save her from a bloody troll, right?”

“Gryffindor chivalry?” Harry joked humorlessly.

“Well maybe, but it was more than that. I couldn’t help wondering if I had … er– feelings for her. Even then.” Ron reddened slightly. “The idea of her getting hurt … it bothered me, even though I didn’t really like her, y’know?”

Ginny poked his arm. “Hermione told me you two talked. You’re not interested in her like that anymore, right?” Ron shook his head.

“Not like _that_ , exactly. I sure was for a while though, and when we had to leave her at … with them …” Harry’s hand went back into a fist. “… I would’ve gone mad if I found out we left her to die.”

“Me too,” Harry admitted slowly. “But it got worse, after … after that night she shocked me. Even though Hogwarts is safe, I couldn’t let her out of my sight. I barely slept for a few nights ‘cause I knew I couldn’t go into her dormitory to check on her, and it made me sick with worry. I almost wished we were back in that tent just because I could always keep an eye on her.”

“That makes a girl feel really special,” Ginny joked, poking her boyfriend on the arm. Harry spluttered and started stammering, but Ginny laughed, cutting him off. “Harry, relax. I know it’s not like that with Hermione, you two are so attached at the hip you’re practically twins!” Harry relaxed a little and gave his girlfriend a relieved kiss. Ron was still so tense he didn’t even complain.

“It was the same after Hermione shocked me, too. I wanna pull my hair out anytime she’s not in the same room.”

“Well, I’ll have to check with Mum if your name is really Ronald or if it’s actually _Herodius_ or _Animus_ or something–” Ginny teased. Ron tossed a ball of parchment at her.

“I _really_ want to go see if she’s OK,” Harry said through clenched teeth.

“No, I’ve already told you,” Ginny said firmly. “She wanted to be alone after she read this thing. It’s probably terrified her, and she’ll never admit it. We know she never wanted this to be about her, and it’s practically screaming at us that we were right all along.”

“You mean _you_ were right,” Harry teased. Ginny grinned.

“Can’t blame me for wanted to best Hermione at something besides Quidditch.”

“We’re gonna need Hermione’s brain to figure out this damned thing,” Ron grumbled, skimming the poem once more. “This stuff is way out there.”

Ginny reached for more parchment to copy out the poem. “She’ll come around on her own, I promise. ‘Til then, not a word about it.”

*** *** ***

_She was trying to get somewhere … but she didn’t remember where. Shapes emerged from the shadows around her. Figures approaching on all sides impeded her path._

_They gathered closer, their eyes unblinking and menacing. One made a lunge for her, and she tried to stop him, but more, still, were coming closer. She became overwhelmed with claustrophobia as they boxed her in. She didn’t understand; she didn’t want to hurt them._

_Hands seized her arms, and she could no longer aim her wand. She struggled but someone snatched the wand from her hand while someone else caught her around the waist._

_“What do you want?” she cried out desperately, trying to worm her way free._

_A pale, sneering face appeared from the crowd. “You cannot win,” a deep voice drawled. “You cannot hide anymore … you are alone …”_

_The tight hands of the crowd kept her firmly in place. She couldn’t run. She didn’t want to hurt anyone … but why were they attacking her? The crowd drew ever closer, making her suddenly feel suffocated._

_The sneering face before her whispered menacingly as he raised a sharp dagger._

_“Farewell …”_

_Something from her core began to pulse. She could feel something –_ energy? _– moving across her limbs … the hands holding her still suddenly released her._

_She lost control … and the energy building within her exploded. Terrified cries of pain surrounded her …_

For the third time that night, Hermione awoke covered in sweat and tears.

*** *** ***

Hermione was surprised the other three didn’t bring up that silly old poem but allowed her to think and study in her room while they straightened up Grimmauld Place. Over the rest of the Christmas break they only pestered her to eat, and to play a game of Gobstones one evening, but otherwise left her alone. She was grateful not to be bothered with questions she wasn’t ready to answer, but she began to seriously consider asking Ron to sit with her at night again so she could attempt to sleep unplagued by nightmares.

Andromeda visited the mostly tidy drawing room one day with little Teddy and Harry gave his godson his very first toy broomstick, the same gift Sirius had given him as a toddler. Teddy didn’t understand the broom quite yet, but he grabbed for Harry and turned his own hair jet black. Harry was choked up for about an hour but tried to deny it.

Hermione was grateful when they left the quiet house and headed back to school; she was anxious to bury herself in her NEWT revisions.

The Gryffindors made their way out of the Thestral-drawn carriage, waved to Hagrid, and turned to enter the Great Hall for dinner. They never made it, as a sudden hand on Harry’s shoulder made him turn.

“Potter, I … you didn’t … you three – four – come please.”

Even during the heat of the Battle and the days following, Minerva McGonagall was no stutterer. They all exchanged worried glances but followed the Headmistress’s desperately waving hand as she marched rapidly through the corridors towards her office.

Hermione, the last one through the door, turned to close it behind her. The instant it snapped shut, Professor McGonagall pulled Harry into a fierce hug. “Professor?” Harry tried to comfort the woman who nearly knocked the breath out of him. After a moment she let go of Harry and grabbed Ron.

“Er– everything alright, Professor?” Ron had no idea what to do with his hands; he awkwardly patted the Headmistress on the shoulder and desperately stared at his sister for help.

“Oh, you children … you … you marvellous children.” Professor McGonagall finally let go of Ron and could no longer contain her sobs. Hermione quickly took the distraught woman’s arm and guided her to the nearest seat while conjuring a cup of tea.

Ginny, meanwhile, snuck away and noticed an unfolded letter sitting on the Headmistress’s desk. She crept closer and recognized the golden “G” seal at the top of the parchment. “Er, guys … Gringotts wrote to her.”

Hermione let out a relieved sigh. “Then nothing’s wrong, Professor?”

Minerva McGonagall shook her head and wiped her eyes. “Potter and … and Weasley … I just can’t imagine how you could manage–”

Ginny retrieved the letter from the desk. “ _Messrs. Harry J. Potter and Ronald B. Weasley hereby bequeath the sum of five hundred thousand Galleons to the trust of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_.” Ginny read aloud with a grin. Professor McGonagall blew her nose.

Harry let out a small laugh. “I hope you have time for a story, Professor.”

*** *** ***

Draco’s eyes carefully searched the crowd at platform nine and three quarters before boarding the train. Subtle though he was, Blaise took immediate notice. “Lookin’ for someone with pretty, curly hair?”

Draco ignored him. He hadn’t seen Hermione on the train from Hogwarts either; perhaps she stayed at school over Christmas. He was concerned Hermione would approach him in front of the others to ask about the gift and told himself for the sixtieth time that he was mental to send it. Luckily, Theo returned to his quiet, studious self and wasn’t encouraging Blaise today.

Blaise took his seat with a sigh of relief the others didn’t hear. He’d been stepping on eggshells all holiday wondering when Narcissa would ask Draco about his love life. Theo knowing about Granger was one thing; he would tease but never lecture, and he’d never tell Draco’s secret.

Physically Blaise had the advantage over his friend, but he knew Draco had special curses he saved for those he was genuinely peeved at. Blaise was happy Narcissa kept her silence and he wasn’t going back to Hogwarts with fangs, boils, or purple hair sprouting from his nostrils.

*** *** ***

Professor McGonagall finally stopped sobbing and she leaped headfirst into business. “Now boys, I need you to decide what should come first, your Special Awards for Services to the School, a banquet in your honour, perhaps a wing of the school renamed after you–”

“NO!” They shouted together.

Harry pulled on his sleeves. “Professor, we’re grateful, truly. But we didn’t want recognition for this.”

“Potter, you don’t understand! This is the single largest donation Hogwarts has received in over four hundred years! I must do _something–_ ”

“Professor, if I may …” Hermione piped up. The boys gratefully ushered her forwards. “I think, Professor, it would be wonderful to acknowledge the donation in a manner, but perhaps without their names attached? I know Harry and Ron wouldn’t wish to make other students feel jealous, or awkward …” Harry nodded fiercely.

“Well, yes … very well.” Professor McGonagall relented. She of all people knew Harry was still getting more attention in the wake of the war than he wanted. “I will tell the staff a donation was made to Hogwarts by an anonymous beneficiary, if that is acceptable to you?” They all nodded in agreement. “Still … a reward of some kind is in order. I invite you to help me determine how the money should best be used, and each of you MUST tell me if there is anything that I can do for you in the meantime. Anything whatsoever. I’ll give you the best career recommendations of course, but if there is something else …?”

They reassured her there was nothing but agreed to meet and discuss how to distribute the funds. The Headmistress insisted on hugging each of them on their way out of the office.

“Well, I think we broke Hogwarts history in more than one way!” Ron exclaimed as they made their way downstairs. “Think McGonagall’s ever hugged a student in her life?”

*** *** ***

Draco tried not to look for her in the crowd of students moving towards the carriages, or in the Great Hall when they sat down to dinner. He tried not to pay attention when she, Potter and the redheads came into dinner late and sat down full of smiles. He tried not to feel a sudden burst of happiness for no other reason than her smile.

Then, he tried not to feel furious when the Weasel wrapped his arm around her, or when she responded by kissing him on the cheek.

*** *** ***

Hermione left the others who were desperate to practice Quidditch – _in the snow, the idiots_ – and headed for the library. She turned a corner and stopped when she recognized Malfoy leaning against a wall in the empty corridor. The irritation on his face would’ve once encouraged her to walk in the other direction.

She debated whether he might prefer to be left alone when he suddenly saw her. She pretended she hadn’t been watching him and walked over casually. “How was your Christmas? Is your mother well?”

“She was happy for company. I presume your holiday was nice?” He spoke in a monotone.

“I had a lovely time with the Weasleys–” _I bet you did._ “–and I got a rather interesting gift.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her tiny book charm.

His face was alabaster stone. “Pretty.”

“I thought so, too.” She tucked it back into her pocket. “It looks quite similar to one I received on my birthday.”

Malfoy pushed away from the wall. “What d’you want, Granger?”

“I …” Hermione thought he’d been playing coy, but he was clearly frustrated. “I guess … nothing?”

“I thought so.” His lanky legs took him quickly around the corner before she could reply.

*** *** ***

Theo was grateful that his Slytherin mates were intelligent enough to assist him through the alchemist’s complicated theories, but equally grateful that they remained oblivious about his own for the time being.

Hermione’s owl indicated when and where to meet if he was still interested in “discussing the fairy tale.” Theo smiled to himself as he prepared his notes, anticipating that the bushy-haired Gryffindor might be the only person in the school who would actually listen to one of his lectures.

*** *** ***

The Gryffindor conspirators spent Sunday morning sipping tea and gnawing rock cakes with Hagrid while he told them all about his Christmas with Grawp.

After, the group settled into their new favourite common room off the third floor; it was just far enough out of the way to be an ideal quiet meeting place. Harry found it one day when he was unaccompanied by Ginny and had to dash around several corners quickly to avoid a flirtatious gang of fifth-year Hufflepuff girls.

Hermione asked Theo to meet them, begrudgingly, because she knew her impatient friends had stayed quiet about the poem long enough and were burning to discuss it. She couldn’t disprove the legend and longed to find out if Theo could. If her stress level didn’t go down soon, she expected her dreams would only get worse.

“I say we let the bloke guess all he wants, and not tell him anything,” Ron announced.

Harry sighed. “Ron, your anti-Slytherin attitude is getting a little–”

“–a lot–” Ginny corrected.

“–annoying.”

Ron grumbled and looked to Hermione for support. She _must_ understand he was trying to protect her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Would you like me to repeat Harry’s speech from the Welcoming Feast? I could do it verbatim, you know.”

Ron sighed and gave in. “Al _right_ , we can talk to the Slytherin.”

Ginny squinted at her brother. “We don’t really have a reason not to trust him. His explanation to Hermione sounded pretty solid, and Harry was at his trial when he was questioned under Veritaserum.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ron relented with a grumble. “But I still think he should tell us what _he_ knows first.”

“That’s acceptable,” Hermione agreed. “I’m curious to see if he–”

“–found anything useful?” Theo finished for her as he walked up to their table.

Harry stood. “I don’t know if we ever met properly, Nott.” He extended his hand, which Theo accepted.

“You’re correct, Potter, we probably didn’t. Please call me Theo.”

“Call me Harry. These are Ginny and Ron Weasley, and you already met Hermione.” The boys sat and Hermione turned to Theo.

“Was your research successful?”

“It was, indeed, Hermione.” Theo presented a large black book covered in silver lettering and symbols, with a neatly rolled scroll of parchment balanced on top.

“You’re calling her Hermione?” Ginny asked suddenly.

“Shall I call her something else? Does she prefer ‘Mione? Or Hermy?”

Hermione shook her head violently as Harry tried to hide a snort.

“My father called me Peanut when I was little, and I finally put my foot down on my seventh birthday,” she said firmly. “I do _not_ like nicknames.” She looked over at Ron threateningly, who had started to open his mouth in response but quickly opted for an innocent whistle.

“I _meant_ ,” Ginny said with a careful look. “The Slytherins usually have much less-flattering names for Muggle–”

Hermione cut in. “‘Hermione’ is perfectly fine, Theo.” She didn’t need Ginny to bait him; oddly, she trusted him already. “Would you mind sharing what you’ve learned?”

“Certainly,” Theo unrolled his scroll and pushed the book towards Hermione. “I was lucky to find this over the holidays. This alchemist studied the _Mage Elementum_ legend in depth and quite eloquently compiled theories of other alchemists along with his own. Since the language is rather outdated it took some time to translate his musings, but I did summarize what I’ve deduced from his work thus far.”

Hermione flipped through the book quickly, impressed with Theo’s initiative. He proceeded to unroll his scroll of notes and clear his throat. “I presume you’ve all heard the poem?” There were a series of nods around the table. Ron watched Theo with slightly pursed lips.

“The _Mage Elementum_ poem is the most widely accepted piece of the legend, although several alchemists had other sources to support the notion that it is in fact a prophecy. With the help of this alchemist – who remains unnamed even in his own work – I deduce that the Mage is a young witch who exhibits great power even before she manifests with unparalleled elemental magic at age nineteen. She will initially fear her newly manifested power since it’s untethered. She’s unaware of the dangers that face her, but the enemy – the _Shadow_ – learns who she is and recognizes her as a great threat, so it tries to destroy her while she is alone and unbound. She’s destined to bond to five wizard Guardians who supposedly stabilize her magic by attaching it to one of the five elements represented by their own powers.”

“Earth, air, fire, water, and energy.” Harry supplied. Theo nodded.

“Not a common thing to indicate _five_ elements, but the alchemist makes compelling arguments in favour of this theory.”

Hermione quickly realized Theo was restating the main points of the poem concisely and not saying anything she hadn’t already deduced herself. She wondered if he was purposefully holding information back.

“And what of the theory that the Mage is not a person, but a magical entity?” Hermione questioned. Everyone listened carefully.

“Indeed, the alchemist doesn’t explore that option, but I considered it myself. I ruled it out because the legend indicates the Mage loves one of her Guardians, and a magical entity cannot love.” Hermione raised her eyebrows, impressed. Theo hid a smile and continued.

“The alchemist also theorizes more about the Guardians, but I haven’t yet read about them in detail. Concisely, they balance the Mage’s power with their own natural abilities: wisdom, strategy, passion, strength, and magical energy. The Mage is prophesized to defeat the enemy with her five Guardians working united through a magical bond. The Shadow, of course, hopes to destroy her before this can happen.” Theo concluded his lecture and studied the Gryffindors.

“Well, that’s great, thanks Nott.” Ron stood from his chair. “See you around, eh?”

“Sit down, Ronald.” Hermione glanced down at Theo’s scroll while he talked; he nearly uttered his theory word for word off the page. If he was like her, which she suspected strongly, he should’ve branched out into tangents as he spoke, and he should certainly have more notes than this concise list of speculations in a convenient order. “Theo knows more than he said. Much more.”

Theo was duly pleased and gave her a small grin. Ron hadn’t sat down; he leaned towards the Slytherin threateningly. “What d’you know, Nott? Are you trying to–”

“Ron, bloody hell, _sit down_.” Ginny yanked her brother by the arm. “Don’t make me tie you to that chair.” Ron silenced, but grumbled to himself. He hated the idea that _their_ Hermione was bonding so easily with a Slytherin. He looked over at Harry for support, but Harry thoughtfully studied Theo, who hadn’t moved his eyes from Hermione’s since he finished speaking.

It was strange, since she barely knew him, but Hermione felt like this wizard was having a nonverbal conversation with her. She didn’t understand why she trusted him so easily; perhaps because he reminded her of herself? But surely, he wouldn’t be deluded enough to believe in this poem. Perhaps he was trying to make friends by reaching out through this legend? If he _was_ like her, he might have found it difficult to make friends as a child and simply sought an ice-breaker.

“Was your interest in the poem beyond curiosity at the Sorting Hat’s warning?” Hermione asked softly. Theo willingly nodded.

“My mother read it to me when I was young. I remembered little, but my research over the holiday brought it back.”

“I see,” Hermione murmured in relief.

Ginny carefully watched their exchange. “Hermione, I think we can trust Theo. We can tell him.” Theo tilted his head expectantly. Harry nodded his agreement, but Ron pursed his lips and grunted.

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “He covered it pretty well, don’t you think?” She was desperate to move on from this nonsense.

Ginny sighed. “Hermione, you know there’s more–”

“She doesn’t need to tell him,” Ron began.

“No, Ron, I think she does.” Harry countered. “I think we were right.” Ginny looked at Harry, then Theo, and nodded her head slowly. Hermione clenched her hands under the table. Her friends were maddening; why couldn’t they let her have a conversation with Theo about Arithmancy or something?

Theo seemed utterly unembarrassed at the scrutiny he was under and studied the Gryffindors as though they were a fascinating new species he discovered.

“Hermione, if you don’t want to talk right now–” Harry started worriedly.

Hermione slammed her hand on the table suddenly. “ _NO_. No, I don’t want to talk at _all_. I don’t want to talk about this ruddy legend anymore. This is a children’s poem which contains multiple interpretations and even if it _is_ a prophecy, that means _nothing!_ We’re wasting our last year with this nonsense when we should be trying to pass our NEWTs! If the Hat was right, and there’s some great evil or darkness coming at us, well, the rest of the world can bloody well deal with it because we’ve done _enough!_ ”

Hermione snatched her bag and left the room. Theo watched her go, the discernible twinge in his chest proving his suspicions correct. Ron buried his face in his hands and moaned, “Please tell me she’ll get over this eventually.”

“She will,” Harry said wisely. “Hermione’s the most stubborn witch we’ve ever met, including McGonagall. And your mum. We knew she wouldn’t come around in a day.”

Theo tented his fingers thoughtfully. “Should we go after her?”

Ginny turned Hermione’s pilfered Arithmancy book over in her hands and murmured, “Oh, don’t worry. She’ll be back.”

*** *** ***

Ten minutes later, they were all on their feet. Ron was trying to make Theo spill whatever he hadn’t said. Theo stubbornly insisted that Hermione had a right to listen as his original conversation was with _her_. Harry was begrudgingly acting referee, unpleasantly reminiscent of the days when Ron and Hermione used to have a go at each other.

Ron finally pulled out his wand to point at the intruding Slytherin.

“THAT’S _IT!_ ” Ginny Weasley was not tall, but she seemed to tower over the three arguing men. She Disarmed her brother and sent him flying back into his chair, where Summoned ropes quickly bound him by the ankles. She was about to do the same to Theo, but he anticipated her movement and blocked her spell. Harry bravely stepped in front of Ginny, facing Nott.

“Trust me mate, you _don’t_ want to duel her. Ask Malfoy about her Bat-Bogey Hex one day.” Theo calmly placed his wand on the table and took a seat. Ginny huffed, in a perfect imitation of Molly.

“Alright, listen to me you lot. Ronald Weasley, you will sit still and _never_ insult Theo again. He’s no more a Death Eater than I am. Theodore Nott, you will accept that we’re all on the same team now and share any information you have without argument. Harry Potter, you’re now in charge of this discussion because I _can’t handle it anymore_.” Ginny threw Ron’s wand on the table and marched to the door to watch for Hermione while the boys exchanged glances. Ron looked abashed, Harry tired, and Theo amused.

“She’s tougher than most Slytherins I know,” Theo said admiringly.

“Most Gryffindors too,” Harry muttered. “Alright, Theo would you fill us in on whatever else you figured out?”

“Certainly,” Theo said smoothly. “I presume you’ve realized by now that Hermione is the Mage?”

The only sound in the room was the crackling fire.

*** *** ***


	13. Of Water and Wisdom

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 13: Of Water and Wisdom**

Hermione stomped back to the common room, frustrated that she left her Arithmancy book. If only she didn’t need it so badly … She prepared to Summon it from the threshold, but Ginny was waiting and Disarmed her on sight.

Hermione glared at the impassive ginger, who knew she wouldn’t try Summoning wandlessly. She hazarded a glance into the room where the wizards looked up with worry and relief. Though secretly pleased Ron was sitting by Theo with no obvious sign of dislike, Hermione was furious.

“You lot are completely ridiculous,” she spat. “Give me my book and let me go on with my life.”

“Hermione, come sit,” Harry said quietly. “This won’t go away if you ignore it.”

“This is _madness!_ ” Hermione cried. “You’re making assumptions based on a five-hundred-year-old prophecy loosely translated from an old-English collection of seventeenth-century alchemist’s theories! This is not how _rational_ adults … I’ve … I– I can’t–!” She reached to the wall for support but barely stopped herself from bursting into tears.

Harry stood and pulled her into his arms. She feebly beat her fists against his chest while dry-sobbing into his shoulder.

“I know,” Harry murmured. “Logic and reason and studying magic from books helped us before. This time we need to take a leap of faith because it’s all we’ve got. We’re all worried about you, and this isn’t gonna just solve itself. Something’s up with your magic, and you might not like this, but you have to admit it _fits_.”

Hermione sniffled and looked into Harry’s green eyes. This was a strange role reversal; she’d normally be using logic to calm _him_. “What did you tell Theo?”

“Basically everything we guessed, but we didn’t tell him about you. He’d already figured that out.”

“Of course he did.” Hermione grumbled as she dropped into a chair. She liked Theo but clearly she’d been wrong; he wasn’t here to disprove the legend–

“I agree with your friends,” Theo said softly. “An intelligent and powerful witch with a pure soul, loving heart, and adoring Guardians? Not to mention bursts of unexplained power … We’d be remiss to assume it was anyone else.” Hermione’s cheeks turned pink. “Also, Draco mentioned you turned nineteen in September, so–”

“Hang on,” Ron cut in. “ _Malfoy_ knew Hermione’s birthday?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Hermione blurted. “I know his birthday too; we’ve all known each together for years.”

“Yes, of course.” Theo said simply. He noted Ginny’s raised eyebrow.

Harry cleared his throat. “The only thing we haven’t discussed is who the five Guardians could be.”

Theo reached into his bag and retrieved a stack of scribbled notes covered in inkblots but hinting at organised chaos. Hermione sighed, “I _knew_ you’d have more than one tiny scroll.” Theo beamed at her; they truly were two of a kind.

“OK, that does it,” Ginny announced. She unfolded the poem. “Theo’s gotta be Herodius the Wise.” Ron repressed an angry sigh.

Theo studied Ginny interestedly. “You’re certain?”

“Hermione shocked you, didn’t she?” Ginny asked plainly.

Theo smiled at the irritated brunette. “I was quite sure it was you. The alchemist suggested first contact with the Mage would initiate a small magical reaction, alerting her to a possible Guardian–”

“ _Madness_ …” Hermione hissed through her teeth. Theo chuckled at her.

“Malfoy was correct, Hermione, you _are_ very stubborn. But you’re also rational, yes? Is there a better candidate for the Mage?” He waited patiently.

“There’s no proof the Mage is even _real_ ,” Hermione gritted.

“So, there’s another explanation for the Hat’s warning?”

She folded her arms.

“Hm, that’s what I thought.” Theo returned to his messy notes. “So, the alchemist believes Herodius is quite intelligent, rivalled only by the Mage herself–” he half-smiled at Hermione, “–and the legend also names this Guardian the _Acumen_ , meaning shrewd knowledge or great insight.”

“Shrewd sounds like a Slytherin to me,” Harry chuckled. “Plus he’s obviously got good insight.”

“Doesn’t Herodius mean _owl?_ ” Ginny added. Theo nodded.

“Though I can’t quite turn my head all the way round, the owl can also signify wisdom.”

“Or big-headedness,” Ron grumbled. Ginny frowned at him.

“Have you actually met anyone smart as Theo, besides Hermione?”

“He’s usually second in most classes,” Harry pointed out. Theo gave an insouciant shrug and Hermione rolled her eyes yet again.

“Intelligence comes in many forms. This proves _nothing_ ,” she insisted.

“You’d like more proof?” Theo ignored his notes and looked her straight in the eye. “I took only subtle notice of you for seven years, purely because I was curious about the witch who beat me in exams. Yet after you shocked me outside the Great Hall on December fourteenth, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”

Ron sat up straighter. Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Shall I expect you to formally declare your intentions, Mr. Nott?”

Harry stifled a laugh and Theo smirked. “I’m not interested like that, Hermione, although you are attractive and unmistakably brilliant. When you aren’t being stubborn, that is.” Ron stifled a laugh this time. “Lately, however, I find myself concerned about your well-being even though we hardly know each other. Over Christmas I had rather frightening dreams about you being hurt–”

Hermione huffed. “All you’ve proven is I come off as some weakling that everyone wants to protect. So, can I go study for my Defence NEWT now? Then maybe you lot will worry less–”

“No,” three male voices chorused together. Ginny giggled.

Theo redirected his focus. “Weasley, do you play chess?”

Ron was confused. “Er … yeah. I’m alright.”

Harry huffed, “Yes, this _alright_ chess player goes undefeated in Gryffindor, and he passed McGonagall’s giant enchanted set at age twelve.” Ron went slightly red and shrugged.

“Fascinating,” Theo quipped. He consulted his scroll. “And Potter – Harry – when did you first produce a corporeal Patronus?”

It was Harry’s turn to look confused. “Er … I was thirteen.” Theo nodded and made a note.

“Oh, he’s _definitely_ going somewhere with this,” Ginny leaned forward, utterly fascinated, studying Theo as though he were the latest episode of her favourite television programme.

The Slytherin grinned sideways but didn’t look up from his parchment. “So, which of you two reacted to Hermione’s magic first?” Hermione’s face fell into her arms.

“We should’ve brought him in _ages_ ago!” Ginny was practically dancing in her seat.

“I did,” Ron said weakly. “Have you figured _everything_ out?”

“I’ve several theories,” Theo said simply. “You’re allowing me to confirm them. I believe you are Meditor.”

“Like a mediator?”

“Not quite. _Meditor_ is the Architect. Also known as the _Designer_ , or the Strategist.” Hermione raised her head and exchanged a look with Harry. Theo continued, “Meditor knows all the strategies and tactics to guide the others during times of distress.”

Harry clapped a hand on his bewildered friend’s shoulder. “No surprise, mate.”

“And Harry, you’re most likely Animus, which translates to the soul, or the center.” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Well you’re the center of _my_ world,” Ginny teased. Ron gagged and Harry blushed.

“Actually, Potter is very much the center,” Theo affirmed. “Animus is believed to have the strongest soul and the most magical energy next to the Mage herself. Harry could produce a Patronus quite young, which is supposedly conjured from the soul. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he demonstrated more raw power than other wizards; after all, he defeated Voldemort and survived death itself.

“The poem also describes Animus as the _leader of courage and strength most adored_ ,” Theo concluded. “I can’t imagine anyone fitting this description better than Harry Potter.”

A shiver ran down Hermione’s spine. This was too accurate for comfort and her rational arguments quickly vanished from her brain.

This _couldn’t_ be true!

Harry rubbed the back of his neck as Ron took the poem from Ginny. “So, who’re the other two?”

“We can only guess,” Theo answered. “But more than likely they’ll also receive a shock from Hermione, so she can–”

“I’m not going to start _touching_ everyone in the school!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Well reasonably speaking, they may not be at Hogwarts,” Theo mused, scratching his ear. “The wizarding world is–”

“That’s IT!” Hermione snatched her wand off the table. “It’s just like I said before, you people are self-fulfilling this bloody prophecy because you’re searching for ways to make it fit! You’re so deep into this you can’t even _see_ how mad it is! You’re wasting your time and I’ll have NO PART OF IT!”

Nobody moved as Hermione stormed away again.

*** *** ***

Ginny stood up. “I think she needs a girl talk now.”

Ron stood up. “No, she needs to come back with me and Harry ‘cause when she’s vulnerable like this it might set off her magic again–”

Harry remained seated. “No, I think she needs to be left alone for a bit.”

Theo stood up. “No, I’m afraid you’re all mistaken. I believe Hermione will only respond to one thing: logic.”

*** *** ***

Hermione knew they’d find her if she hid in the Tower or the library. She decided to do the most unpredictable thing and venture outdoors. She passed Neville as he left the greenhouses and asked him to return her bag to Gryffindor Tower.

Now with only her wand in tow and a Warming Charm on her jumper, Hermione started around the lake. She’d made this walk often with her friends, but they’d always reach an invisible point where they’d continue around the lake or return to the castle. This time, she walked past the lake, away from the Forest. The Hogwarts grounds gradually extended uphill to the east, and she’d never quite walked to the border.

The lake was covered in a thin, melting layer of ice. It was warm for January; only small piles of snow lingered on the ground. Dead, brown grass swayed gently in the breeze. Distant figures on the Quidditch pitch flew in her peripheral vision as Hermione focused on keeping her feet moving. She shoved her hands in her pockets as she walked and tried to hold her tears in.

She’d been counting on proving the legend useless, or for Theo to prove someone _else_ was the Mage. She remembered the horrible churning in her stomach when she read the full poem; for a moment, she madly believed it could be true.

She’d been told for seven years that she was the brightest witch of her age. She mastered spells quickly and performed charms well beyond her skill level. But some thunder on her birthday, a few static shocks from some wizards, and broad descriptions of “guardians” that fit her friends … no, it was ridiculous.

But Theo was right; it was the only thing that _fit_ with the Hat’s warning and there was no other candidate. Hermione kicked a rock in her frustration. Her well-thought career plans did _not_ include becoming some super-powered sorceress. Yet her future seemed to fade the more she tried to imagine it. Her conversations over the holidays with Bill and Charlie all but disappeared from her mind.

In third year when things became difficult, she’d imagined returning to the Muggle world as a last resort. Before she erased herself from her parents’ minds, she transferred the savings account they left her into a Gringotts vault, which was now much larger thanks to the Lestrange inheritance. If she converted it to Muggle money, she could easily afford medical school. It was an awful thought, leaving her friends behind.

Yet, mad legend aside, her problematic magic put them at risk. The image of harming her friends in the Mirror of Erised swam in her mind. She was a Gryffindor … perhaps to be brave she had to give up what she valued most? She’d given everything to this world, but …

A tear finally ran down her cheek. Maybe it was time to leave the magical world behind.

*** *** ***

Hermione walked a little slower. She was nearing the school perimeter and the terrain slanted sharply uphill.

“You have far shorter legs than me; I expected to catch up with you faster.”

Hermione turned in surprise to find Theo strolling up the hill behind her. “How– how did you find me?” She was far beyond the point where someone would recognize her from the castle windows.

Theo reached out silently. She tentatively placed her hand in his; his palm was warm, and she felt … something. She vaguely remembered the day she brushed hands with him and how her skin remained warm as though it had been sitting in the sun.

“You feel that?” he asked softly. “I don’t spend as much time around you as the others, so you probably don’t notice anymore that your magic reacts to them.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and retracted her hand. “More of this rubbish, _really?_ ” Theo probably just exuded heat, her father always had warm hands too. And yes, she felt warmth from Harry and Ron all the time, but that was nothing new–

“How did I find you, Hermione?”

“A short-range tracking spell,” Hermione asserted firmly. “You had Ginny give you my hairbrush or something–”

“No.”

“You saw me from across the lake with a Telescope Charm–”

“No.”

“You made a lucky guess–”

“Hermione.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and she bit her lips closed.

“Look,” Theo sighed. “I know you didn’t grow up in our world. It’s probably much harder for you to accept magic with blind faith when you ignored its existence for half your life.” She didn’t say anything as he slowly stepped closer. “You were probably either terrified or belligerent – or both – the day you found out about magic. But you’re here, so there must’ve been something that convinced you magic was real?”

Hermione slowly pulled her wand from her pocket in response. “Of course,” he murmured. “Magic that reacted to you. Magic _you_ controlled.”

Theo felt unusual as she looked up at him. He barely knew this girl, but he trusted her without question. Trust didn’t come easily to any Slytherin, especially Theo, who hadn’t trusted a woman since he was six years old. He took a breath.

“Let me tell you a story,” he said. “When I was young, I knew about magic of course, but it absolutely terrified me. The house-elves used it to cook and clean, but that magic was _theirs_. Wizarding magic was … quite different.” Theo walked over to a large stone and sat down; Hermione slowly followed.

“My mother didn’t use magic. I never questioned why, but I only ever saw my father with a wand. He wasn’t a calm magic user. He cast spells with tenacity and anger … it was scary in the eyes of a little boy.” Theo’s voice was carefully detached, as though he were speaking about someone else. “Everything my father did seemed like Dark magic. He cursed anyone who argued with him, he banished objects and house-elves with force, and he … broke things.” His hands were buried in his pockets, but Hermione suspected they were fisted tightly.

“I had no idea magic could be beautiful,” Theo continued softly. “When my magic started to manifest, it was terrifying. I broke windows. I threw myself backwards into walls … one time my magic protected me from my father’s wrath. _One_ time. He sent a curse at me, and I somehow conjured a shield which completely deflected it.” Hermione’s eyes opened wide. She’d never heard of accidental magic doing something so strong.

“He was furious and cursed me harder than ever. I became convinced all magic was out to get me.” Theo began pulling up dried grass by the roots and letting it filter through his fingers. Hermione’s empathy burned inside her like a flame.

“You can imagine how terrified I was stepping into Ollivander’s for the first time,” Theo grimaced. “As far as I was concerned, I was surrounded by deadly weapons. Weapons that, if I learned to control, would only make my father hate me more. But when I picked up my wand … MY wand …”

Hermione knew exactly what he meant. “It brought your magic to life,” she said softly. Theo pulled out his long, thin wand and held it gently. His fingers were spattered with ink like hers, but there were also thin white scars decorating the backs of his hands.

“I didn’t trust it until I came to Hogwarts and I saw magic being used in many different ways. I finally believed magic didn’t just have it in for me. And my magic became safer, and stronger, after I accepted that.”

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m trapped in a bloody fairy tale. I have a wise man sitting with me beside a beautiful lake telling me I must _believe in myself_ to control my magical power–”

“Now you’re getting it. And I appreciate your calling me a wise man,” Theo laughed.

“Wise old _owl_ ,” Hermione mumbled through a grimace.

“Well, Ginny seemed to think so. I rather like it. For a long time I thought I’d become an angry shark like my father.”

Hermione shook her head. “You definitely aren’t your father, Theo. Even though Ron can be an arse about Slytherins sometimes, we know you’re not like him.”

“I never had a problem with the Weasleys,” Theo admitted. “In fact, I always thought those twins would’ve made good Slytherins.” Hermione laughed, and Theo glanced over at her. “So, what do you think?”

She stared down at her wand for a moment.

“I don’t like this,” she murmured as the tears threatened to return. “I never liked this. I never _wanted_ this.”

“You liked being Harry Potter’s brilliant sidekick who did the work but never had to stand in the spotlight?”

Hermione snorted. “Like you were Malfoy’s brilliant sidekick?”

Theo grimaced and shook his head. “Hardly. Draco’s a good mate, but he was always a bit of a prick, even to us. He was convinced his father ran the world and wanted to be _exactly_ like him. If we Slytherins acted out of place, he made sure we knew that _he_ was Prince of the dungeons and we followed his rules,” he chuckled. “He’s matured so much though, and I was happy to learn you had something to do with that.”

“You think so?”

“I know what happened when he saved your life. I presume you talked him off his pedestal rather brilliantly. He no longer wishes to be his father, which is good for all of us. Draco’s kind of our hero, in fact. His trial gave us hope that we wouldn’t be punished for our parents’ crimes. Besides, Slytherins aren’t usually known for the ability to _change_ , and I won’t deny it’s inspiring. Unfortunately, the other houses don’t care to notice the change.”

“Yes,” Hermione said sadly, remembering what Blaise said about Draco avoiding the other students. “They hold onto their prejudice so strongly.”

“It’s a little more than Slytherin prejudice,” Theo said softly. “They particularly dislike Draco because he pinned unpleasant labels on everyone for years. Hufflepuffs were emotional nutters, Ravenclaws were brainy swots, and Gryffindors were clueless Potter-worshippers. But he’s not the same person anymore, and I wish everyone else would give him a chance like you did.”

Hermione was struck with a sudden realization. “Draco and Blaise are your friends … did you tell them anything about this?”

“Well, Draco grew up hearing the story as I did. They assisted with some of my research but had no idea I suspected you. Draco thinks I believe the legend is true, so I allowed them to assume it’s my fantasy.” Theo laughed to himself. “Blaise teased that I’ll leave Hogwarts and embark on a worldwide search for the great sorceress so I can prove I’m clever enough to be her Guardian.”

“I suppose it’s true,” Hermione murmured.

He looked at her meaningfully. “What’s true, exactly?”

“That I’m … and you’re …”

“Yes?” His eyes were blue, but darker than Ron’s. She felt like she could see behind those eyes.

Hermione bit her lip. “You found me out here … and the way you look– you trust me. You’re supposed to … er …”

“Be your Guardian?”

_It’s okay to be scared …_

She went pink. “Yes?”

Theo grinned and extended his hand. “I knew I could get you to admit the truth.”

Hermione sighed and let Theo pull her to her feet. His touch made her surprisingly calm. The January wind was picking up, but his grip was warm.

“I’m not sure I want anyone else to know–” _As if anybody would believe it._

“I’ll keep it to myself,” Theo answered as they started back down the hill. “Besides, my instincts are screaming at me to protect you. I think that’s why I could find you so easily. The idea of you being out here alone was … unsettling.”

“Well, I’m not totally helpless, you know.”

“You’re one of the most capable witches I’ve ever seen, and I’ve no doubt regarding your abilities, especially now. But the image of you getting hurt – however irrational – seems to frighten me regardless.”

Hermione just sighed. She’d expected to be overwhelmed, but she felt as though a string had been tied in her mind. The part of her that wanted to believe in magic and the part that believed nothing without proof were joined. _Magic IS the proof._

Desperate for a distraction from fear of the unknown trickling down her spine, she asked Theo what he hoped to do after Hogwarts.

“I’m not sure,” he said slowly, “my father allowed our family name to develop such negative connotations I don’t expect many people will want to work with me. My career options may be limited.”

“That’s entirely unfair!”

“Draco has similar concerns,” Theo admitted. “We hope to fix our family names and not simply sit back in wealth, but neither of us is entirely sure how.”

“Well,” Hermione asserted, “doing nothing will only ensure that nothing changes. There must be something that interests you?”

“I’m fascinated with the flow of magic, especially regarding souls,” Theo answered. “If a bond is formed as part of this legend it may allow me further insight. I’m also interested in wandlore since, like you, I didn’t trust my own magic until I was paired with the right wand. If it’s true that wizards’ souls hold their magic, I like to think the core of a wand holds a sort of soul as well, which is why the wand can choose the wizard.” He glanced sideways at Hermione. “Sounds like rubbish, right?”

“No, I like it.” Hermione answered immediately. “Even Muggles believe in the soul; they say it’s the source of a person’s _being_. Some believe when your body dies your soul moves into the afterlife, and some believe in _soulmates_ , where two people fall in love because their souls are fundamentally connected.”

“I wonder if this bond is the same kind of thing,” Theo mused. He poked Hermione’s arm teasingly. “You’re so special you’ve got _five_ soulmates.”

Hermione laughed. “I suppose the theory is transferable. Perhaps Muggle notions of the soul come from our world, just like their stories about magic, wands, and Merlin.”

“I’m glad you’re at least a _little_ open-minded,” Theo teased. “I worried I wouldn’t have a chance to eat or sleep this week because I’d be so busy convincing you I was right.”

Hermione just smiled. Being with him was easy; she felt like she’d known him for years. “I wonder why Harry and Ron haven’t used this … bond or whatever to find me,” she wondered aloud.

“Well, today Ginny kindly distracted them while I slipped away to find you. I swear that girl is half-Slytherin; she’s got truly cunning instincts.” Hermione chuckled and he mused, “I wasn’t completely sure where to look for you, but I suspect they never needed to track you down in this manner.”

“Well, I do tend to frequent the library …”

Theo grinned at her. “They probably didn’t need extra magic to find you.”

“Extra magic … d’you think I had _extra_ power that didn’t show itself until my birthday? Or did this power get transferred to me somehow? Did some other entity have this magic and then– I dunno … _choose_ me?” Hermione massaged her temples.

“There’s a lot of speculation around the source of magic itself and its connections to the soul, and I understand the Department of Mysteries has conducted research–”

Hermione stopped in her tracks. “The Department …” she went pale, and Theo looked concerned.

“… _they was in robes with a big D an’ M on ‘em. They was goin’ on about somethin’ dangerous comin’. Just kept sayin’ they needed HER_ …”

Hermione was quite pale. “They’re looking for me.”

*** *** ***

Ginny lounged on Ron’s bed while he and Harry argued about whether they should go after Theo.

“Would you two relax already?” Ginny said, exasperated. “Theo connected with her and he’ll keep her safe too, so you can just _sit_.”

“I can’t believe he went off without us,” Ron grumbled.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with Theo,” Harry said humourlessly as he sat and tugged anxiously on his shoelaces.

“It’s … weird. I dunno, the way she was looking at him–”

“She trusts him,” Ginny replied. “They’re a lot alike.”

“No, it’s more than that …”

Hermione’s otter Patronus swam into the room and they all sat up. “ _Theo found me – come meet us in the library. And bring my bag_.”

*** *** ***

Harry wasn’t sure he’d breathed correctly in the last few hours, but he felt his entire body relax the moment he saw Hermione. Letting her out of his sight was even harder now that she was a proven flight risk. He joined the table and carefully studied her for another sign that she’d take off again.

“Alright you lot,” Hermione sighed after they all sat. “We’ve wasted enough of this Sunday on things that _aren’t_ NEWTs, and after we finish this conversation, I don’t want to hear another word until I’m caught up on my Arithmancy. Are we clear?” There was a collective agreeable murmur and Theo grinned.

“Now, look. I went for a walk around the lake and I went pretty far – almost to the edge of the grounds, because I wanted to be alone – but Theo managed to find me anyway.”

“How–?” Ron asked.

“I focused on her, and I knew where she was.” Theo answered smoothly. Harry blinked but found the answer oddly clarifying.

“The point is,” Hermione continued. “We talked. And … I don’t like this. I don’t think I’ll _ever_ like it …” The others held their breath. “… but I concede.”

If they weren’t in the library Harry and Ron would’ve cheered loudly. Ginny jumped up and hugged Hermione, then Theo. “How the bloody hell did you convince her? You barely _know_ her!”

Theo shrugged. “I grew up in Slytherin. I’m used to stubborn people.”

“OK, it doesn’t matter now.” Ginny said breathlessly. “Hermione, you … it’s you?”

Hermione sighed dramatically and cast a _Muffliato_ around the table. “Yes, I am the bloody Elemental Mage. Can I do my homework now?”

*** *** ***


	14. Of Wondering and Wandlore

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 14: Of Wondering and Wandlore**

Despite odd looks from surrounding tables, Theo took a seat at the Gryffindor table for dinner between Hermione and Harry. Ginny had hardly been able to focus on her homework as she was so excited about the “Mage possibilities,” and now that they were away from the library Hermione could finally be convinced to discuss something besides Arithmancy calculations, which Theo had gladly worked through with her.

“D’you think we should start experimenting?” Ginny hissed under her breath excitedly. “I mean, you blocked a Stunner with your bare hand! Who _knows_ what else you could do?”

“Experimenting is dangerous,” Hermione whispered back. “Remember what happened to Anthony? What if I hurt somebody, or break something?”

“I’m concerned about somebody else finding out about you,” Theo answered quietly. Ron and Harry immediately echoed his thoughts with their own nods. “Is it possible someone will come back to look for you again?”

“Wait, what?” Ron asked quickly.

Hermione scrawled a “DM” on her napkin. “Hagrid said two wizards came looking for _her_.”

“Merlin,” Harry’s head fell into his hand. “The Department of Mysteries? That’s why they owled me about the Black library. The prophecy we found was the original; I bet they wanted it.”

“But why would they–?” Ginny began.

“They research legends and prophecies, and if they believed there was any truth to the _Mage Elementum_ , they would want to find her,” Theo said softly.

“Well, they _won’t_ ,” Ron said fiercely. Theo nodded his agreement.

“Perhaps we can ask the Headmistress to monitor the gates?”

“Hagrid watches the gates during the day,” Harry pointed out. “He could warn us if they tried to come back.”

Ron bit his lip and Theo turned to Hermione. “Do you want anybody else knowing about all this? It could be asking for trouble.”

“I think I’m alright with trusting Hagrid,” Hermione admitted. “He’s fiercely loyal, he wouldn’t tell anyone my secret, and he is ideally placed to keep an eye on the gates.”

Theo mused, “I never spoke to him outside Care of Magical Creatures.”

“He trusts us, so he won’t have a problem with you as long as _we_ don’t.” Harry teased.

*** *** ***

Indeed, perhaps due to the fondness in Theo’s eyes when he looked at Hermione, Hagrid had no problem with their new friend. After they explained the situation, Hagrid very gently took Hermione’s hand between his two massive ones and his kind eyes sparkled at her.

“I always knew you was somethin’ special, Hermione,” he said. Her smile lit up her whole face. She’d been terrified that as soon as someone else found out about her the reality of the situation would crash on her like a tidal wave, but Hagrid’s warm reassurance was incomparable.

“Hagrid, can you tell us more about the wizards that tried to get into Hogwarts in September?” Harry asked. “Wearing robes with a DM? We’re concerned they were from the Department of Mysteries, looking for Hermione.” Hagrid suddenly sat up very straight, his head almost brushing his roof.

“Well I’m ruddy glad the Headmistress kept ‘em out,” Hagrid growled. “Las’ thing our Hermione needs is some Ministry idiot runnin’ tests on her! It’s barmy enough aroun’ here without them swoopin’ in, makin’ trouble …”

“What’s barmy?” Ron asked tentatively.

“Those blokes ain’t th’ only ones tha’ bin tryin’ to sneak inter Hogwarts,” Hagrid said as he refilled their tea. “They came back b’fore Christmas, an’ other folk bin tryin’ ter get in fer months now. I’m right glad we got tha’ waterfall. Anytime th’ gate’s open fer Hogsmeade trips or summat, there’s at least one tryin’ ter sneak through tha’ got no business bein’ here. Jus’ las’ week some big bloke was tryin’ ter fight his way through, sayin’ he was a student! Lucky Professor Gangrous was watchin’ close an’ sent the bloke on ‘is way.” Everyone exchanged concerned glances.

“Think we should hold off on Hogsmeade trips for a while?” Harry asked, concerned.

“Harry, you can’t possibly think everyone trying to break into Hogwarts is after _me?_ ” Hermione said weakly. “There are still Death Eaters and Voldemort-supporters on the run; for all we know they’re trying to get at _you._ ”

“Or just trying get into Hogwarts,” Theo pointed out. “If my father were still around, I could see him trying to break into the school out of pure spite just to prove that his kind will never give up.”

“I remember that father o’ yours, Nott, from the first war,” Hagrid muttered. “Righ’ piece o’ work, he was. Helped take down th’ McKinnons an’ the Prewetts … real nasty streak, he had.” Theo was quiet but aloof. Ginny gently put her hand over Hagrid’s and gave him a look. Hagrid coughed. “So, Theo, is it? Are ya into Quidditch like these three or th’ library like Hermione?”

Theo grinned. “Much more like Hermione, Professor.”

“He’s _almost_ as bad,” Ron muttered through his tea.

“Some say worse,” Theo replied. “Although Hermione is still ahead of me in every subject but Arithmancy.”

“For now,” Hermione said quietly through a small smile. Hagrid smiled at the challenging smirk Theo threw back across the table at Hermione.

When it grew dark, they prepared to head back to the castle and Hagrid clapped Theo on the arm. “Yer gonna take care o’ our Hermione, right? An’ you can come back ter see me anytime.”

“I certainly will, and thank you, Professor.” Theo replied.

“Hagrid,” came the gruff answer.

*** *** ***

Theo spent his first seven years at Hogwarts trying to blend into the background and he was quite proficient. It was strange to be noticed now; people from all houses watched curiously – or angrily – as he walked the corridors and ate meals with the famous Gryffindors. Some didn’t seem bothered once they got past the initial shock, but plenty of people frequently sent irritated glances in their direction – geared more towards the Gryffindors, it seemed, for daring to allow the son of a Death Eater into their midst. Others were clearly jealous that a Slytherin of all people managed to break into the ranks of Harry Potter’s very tight-knit group of friends.

Theo was hardly bothered, but he appreciated the glares Hermione and Ginny directed at the nosy Ravenclaws. Harry had a total lack of response to any unwanted attention; Theo supposed Harry was rather used to brushing others off as background noise. It took a good two weeks, however, for Ron to willingly walk beside Theo instead of keeping several paces behind – whether this had been to keep a safe social distance from the Slytherin or to keep an eye on him as he walked near Hermione, Theo wasn’t sure, but his slow camaraderie with Ron began building faster as they discovered their joint skill in wizard’s chess. It didn’t hurt that Theo willingly looked over Ron’s essays for accuracy when Hermione was too busy.

Ginny was having great fun with the whole thing; she started making a habit of grabbing Theo’s hand as they walked down corridors with her other hand in Harry’s, as though creating a bridge between the houses. None dared to challenge the fiery redhead, but Theo sometimes got angry or confused looks from his housemates – Blaise nearly tripped over his open jaw when Ginny stood on tiptoes to playfully ruffle Theo’s hair one afternoon.

Luna Lovegood had been splitting her time between the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors for months; she particularly liked sitting beside Ron as he patiently indulged her stories about Blibbering Humdingers and Tangiolet Lemurs (purple monkey-like creatures with bright orange stingers). Lately she’d also been joining them to question Theo about his knowledge of Waspish Orthopods, rumored to be found near his estate. Then before one of the Griffins’ matches, Luna gave Ron a good-luck kiss on the cheek, promptly turning the captain scarlet while Harry begrudgingly shoved a handful of Sickles into his girlfriend’s hand under the table.

Though there was a steady flow of intermingling among three house tables, most of the Slytherins had stayed put. The unexpected integration of a Slytherin in the Gryffindor circle became a slow catalyst for movement. A great shock was to be had when Daphne Greengrass entered the Great Hall one day and, despite the waving hand of Pansy Parkinson, turned from her roommate and resolutely sat at the Ravenclaw table next to Anthony Goldstein, her new Charms partner. Draco Malfoy had to physically hold Pansy in her seat to stop her from jumping up screaming at the other witch.

Daphne’s brave move inspired yet more mingling; Neville, flushing deeply, joined the quiet Hannah Abbott one day at the Hufflepuff table and invited her to Hogsmeade with him. Neville had designs on Hannah for months and her happy acceptance of his offer caused a not-so discreet exchange of smirks between his four dormmates.

*** *** ***

Hermione and her group established themselves comfortably in their off-the-grid third-floor common room where they began having most of their private conversations and stockpiling their extra books. Hermione had finally finished redoing her sixth-year Arithmancy projects at the beginning of February when Ginny suddenly closed her books and put on her best conspiring face.

“So, we need to figure out who Hermione’s other two Guardians are,” Ginny said excitedly, one hand already on the notes she’d been making in her spare time.

“I swear, Ginny, you’re more intrigued by this than me.” Hermione leaned her head on her hand in exhaustion. “ _You_ want to take over and be the Mage?” Ginny poked Hermione with her quill.

“Absolutely not, I want to be the Mage’s best friend, erm– or even her trusted handmaiden! But as a witch, of course, not like a maid or a house-elf …”

“Badass handmaiden with unforgettable wrath,” Harry teased. He loved Ginny’s enthusiasm and wondered if she resented not being part of the conspiracies and plotting that he, Ron, and Hermione had gotten up to in previous years.

Theo remarked, “I’ve yet to see that legendary wrath in action, but I hope not to be on the receiving end.”

“Keep my girl here safe and it’ll never happen, Theo.” Ginny said with a grin.

“So, do we need the other two Guardians before we can do anything else?” Harry asked.

“What we need to _do_ ,” Hermione grumbled. “Is focus on passing NEWTs so that we can actually have lives–”

Ron ignored her. “Hold on now, apart from those shocks, we aren’t totally positive it’s _us_ , right?”

“I think it makes sense that it’s us, but I dunno about the different Guardians, with the elements and all that … I’m not convinced I’m supposed to be the ruddy _center_ ,” Harry muttered. Hermione hid a grin; she knew Harry was sick of carrying the spotlight.

Theo jumped in. “Actually, I might be able to convince you. Hermione, you remember I mentioned an interest in wandlore? I’ve been researching souls and how they correspond to wand cores. I reckon your wand has a dragon heartstring, but Ron’s a unicorn hair?”

Ron nodded in reply. He’d thought having a second bookworm in the group would be hell, but he couldn’t deny Theo fit his Guardian role well. He gladly became the official fact-checker and researcher of the legend since Hermione was still stubbornly convinced this wasn’t as important as NEWTs. She happily let Theo take the control she never would’ve yielded to Harry or Ron.

“Mine is also a dragon heartstring,” Theo continued. “They’re known to choose wizards with greater potential for power, although they’re trickier to use and the most likely to employ Dark magic. Unicorn hair, on the other hand, is easier to master but provides more stability, reliability, and consistency. Sounds like Ron, no?”

“I have a phoenix feather,” Harry murmured. Theo’s eyebrows went up.

“Well, they’re not common at all, Harry, but it makes sense for you. They’re the most difficult to master, but phoenix feathers can harness the widest range of power. Remember, Animus is the Guardian with the most magical energy.”

“Well that’s cool …” Ron gawked at his best friend and Harry sighed.

“You’re still sure that _I’m_ supposed to be Animus?”

Ginny consulted her notes. She’d recently made a habit of stealing Theo’s alchemy book when he was busy with Arithmancy; Theo made a game of pretending to be irritated with her. “Animus was also called the _Sorcerer_ … Magically speaking, he’s the equivalent to the Mage, since she’s called the Sorceress. Merlin to her Morgana.”

“Harry, what wood is your wand made of?” Theo inquired.

“Holly,” Harry replied tentatively. Theo dug through his bag for _Introduction to Wandlore_. “This thing isn’t extensive but it’s the best Hogwarts has. I want to get back to the Estate and search for more material … here it is. Holly is rare in wand use and is mostly attracted to wizards _engaged in some dangerous and often spiritual quest_.”

“Ha!” Ron prodded Harry in the chest. “There’s literally never been a wizard in as much danger as you!”

Hermione glanced up from her homework at her best friend’s look of irritation. “Harry, I had to admit this fairy tale nonsense is true; it’s only fair if you do.”

Harry groaned and gave in. “OK, OK, I’m Animus. Should’ve never expected to live a normal life this year.” Ron and Hermione shared a smirk. “So, my element is energy?”

Theo grinned. “Yes, and mine is water. What’s your wand wood, Ron?”

“Willow.”

Theo consulted his book again. “Willow is known to choose wizards trying to reach enormous potential. This says, _he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow_.”

“I’m gonna travel the farthest?” Ron asked, bemused. A memory popped into Hermione’s head from a soft voice in a dusty shop. “ _Vine wood like this is not commonly used … this wand is designed to accommodate a witch with a hidden depth … a larger purpose_.”

Ginny glanced at the poem, which she carried everywhere. “ _Meditor of Battle, like wind he does fly,_ ”

“I do like flying,” Ron commented.

Ginny tossed him a look. “It means your element is _air_ , Ron. We should’ve known; you’ve always been full of hot air–” Ron tackled his sister and the others laughed.

“Alright, know-it-all, what’s _your_ wand made of?” Ron challenged Theo with a grin as he released his sister.

“Beechwood,” Theo answered slyly. “For one wise beyond their years …”

“Sure, it is,” Ron laughed. “You sure it’s not for wizards with swollen heads?” He and Harry chortled, and Hermione smiled as Theo fake-scowled. Despite her lingering frustration with the legend and all its implications, she loved how well Theo fit into their group. Her nightmares had been surprisingly less frequent since they started spending time together. Though she wasn’t excited about this whole _Mage_ thing getting out of hand, she expected eventually their group would have to expand a little wider for two more.

“I wonder who the other two are,” she mused aloud.

“You’ll bond with _Alitis the Heart_ last of all if the poem is correct.” Ginny said immediately. “ _Lupus_ is probably someone really strong; stronger than the rest of us, anyway, because his name means _Wolf_.”

“Stronger than Hermione?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“Not with magic,” Ginny corrected. “You’re strong magically. He’s the _Warrior_ , so he’s probably strong physically. Not like you three beanpoles.”

“I think we can safely rule out the first years,” said Ron.

“I think they’re all Hermione’s age,” Ginny affirmed. “You’re all from the same year. I doubt she’d bond with some sixty-year-old man or a twelve-year-old kid.”

“Actually, the alchemist had something on that,” Theo shuffled his notes again. “He posited a theory that the Mage would form bonds with people she knew; they wouldn’t just show up out of nowhere, because the poem specifies _five more at her side._ All the Guardians belonging to the same age group or magical skill level is certainly within reason, and of course she has to be able to trust them all–”

“ _You_ showed up out of nowhere,” Ron pointed out. “And Hermione didn’t trust you before a month ago–”

“I still knew who he _was_ though Ronald, I didn’t just bump into him in the middle of London or something, and I had no reason not to trust him, really.”

“Y’know, Terry Boot is pretty strong,” Ginny said thoughtfully. Hermione shook her head.

“I touched his hand in Charms a few weeks back, it’s not him.”

“Should we check Neville, or Dean …?” Harry suggested.

Hermione shook her head again. “It’s been months since my birthday, I’m quite sure I’ve come in contact with all the Gryffindor boys at some point in passing … are we sure they’re all boys, by the way?”

“Men,” Theo corrected her with a wink. “And yes, I think the legend is fairly clear …”

“Well, Hermione, you better get out there and start touching all the guys,” Ginny teased. “Make sure you start with the cutest ones.”

“And no more know-it-alls,” Ron insisted desperately. “We can’t handle more than two.”

*** *** ***

Draco was frustrated that one of his only friends suddenly became best mates with the Gryffindors. Theo was even calling the Weasleys by their first names, practically a sin in Slytherin house. Worst of all, he couldn’t seem to keep his distance from _her_. He trusted his friend, but Theo’s motivation made no sense. Draco hated it when people kept secrets, and this was the second time he suspected Theo of being dishonest. His former concern for his friend was being rapidly overthrown by jealousy.

During Potions one day, Draco followed Theo into the supply cupboard pretending to need more powdered spine of lionfish. “Why’re you hanging off Granger all of a sudden?” he hissed.

Theo raised an eyebrow. “I’ve become friends with her since we have a great deal in common. Is that a problem?”

“Then why’re you around the Weasleys and Potter, too?”

“I certainly thought you paid enough attention to notice it’s difficult to be around Hermione without tolerating the others,” Theo answered with a smirk. “Or have you changed your mind about chasing after her from a distance?” Draco’s eyes sparked angrily but Theo remained impassive. He was used to Draco’s tantrums and stayed silent out of practice, knowing the other boy would crack first.

“If I was gonna chase Granger, which I’m _not_ , I wouldn’t bother anyway because she’s all over Weasley.”

“Ah yes, she does hug him rather a lot. Much like she does Harry. It’s lucky Ginny doesn’t get jealous.”

Draco blinked. “She’s _not_ with Weasley?”

“Oh, that’s not for me to say,” Theo said simply. “She’s my friend, and I don’t betray my friends’ secrets.” He promptly scooped up the beetle’s eyes he came for and departed the cupboard.

*** *** ***

“Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

Hermione rolled over in bed and looked at Ginny with a yawn. “Tonight?”

“It’s actually loads easier to get you to spill when you’re sleepy, so yes.” Ginny crawled out of bed and joined Hermione, drawing the curtains around them before casting _Muffliato_.

“Hermione, are you seeing anyone?”

Hermione snorted, half in amusement and half from exhaustion. “Ginny, if I were, you would know about it.”

“OK, so who sent you that Link charm?”

Hermione squeezed her eyes closed in the dark. She was _not_ ready for this conversation. “It was sent anonymously.” When she returned after the Christmas break, Hermione carefully wrapped both silver charms in a sock and kept them in her drawer so Ginny wouldn’t notice she had two.

Ginny peered at her friend suspiciously. “You don’t have any idea?” Hermione feigned exhaustion and minutely shook her head.

“I thought it might’ve been Theo,” Ginny admitted. “Now I don’t think so.”

“Theo doesn’t like me that way.”

“Which is kinda too bad. You two would be adorable together. You’re so much alike–”

“But that’s why it _wouldn’t_ work,” Hermione countered sleepily. “We’re quite similar, so we’d probably get into rows all the time if we tried to date. We both enjoy having the edge of intelligence, and I expect we’d end up in competition. It’d make for an awkward relationship.”

“Well, you fight with Ron all the time too, and you two are _nothing_ alike.”

“Yes, I think Ron and I are too different. Except for shared values like loyalty and friendship, we don’t really have much in common. I suppose if I were to consider a relationship, I would need someone with whom I have a better balance. Like you and Harry.”

“Me and Harry?”

“You two complement each other nicely. You put each other first, and you’re both passionate but willing to yield control to each other so you don’t end up arguing often. You also have things in common – like Quidditch – over which you can bond or share healthy debates, but you’re not hopelessly attached to each other either. I think you have a very good relationship.” Despite the dark Hermione knew her friend was blushing as red as her hair, and she silently praised herself for transferring the focus of the conversation.

“Yeah … I guess we kinda do, don’t we?” Ginny was smiling brightly.

“Go to sleep and dream about Harry,” Hermione suggested sweetly.

Ginny giggled. “Go to sleep and dream about a tall, handsome rich guy who woos you with silver jewelry, Hermione.”

Hermione sighed. _I hope so._

*** *** ***

Hermione was starting to dread Defence Against the Dark Arts; when she was called to choose a duelling partner for demonstrations, she had to be careful to cast every spell with the smallest possible amount of force. She hadn’t caused any more injuries, but her powerful casting made her classmates nervous. She’d already duelled Theo and won, and she couldn’t catch anyone else’s eye outside her own house. When Professor Gangrous got around to calling her again, Hermione bit her lip and determined she needed to lose.

Without checking to see if anyone was volunteering, Hermione quickly called Ernie MacMillan to join her. He stepped forward; she knew he was too proud to refuse.

 _I’m in control._ Hermione thought desperately. She raised her wand and waited for Ernie to cast the first curse. She dodged more slowly than usual, allowing the spell to graze her arm, then sent a Stunning Spell at Ernie but deliberately didn’t aim well. He blocked it easily and looked at her in surprise.

 _He thinks I’m trying to go easy on him._ Hermione gritted her teeth and determined to appear more realistic. When Ernie sent another hex her way, she blocked it quickly and sent him two hexes; the Leg-Locker Jinx hit him, and he struggled to keep his balance as he sent another in her direction. He remained stuck but managed to hold his ground well for several minutes until she decided she’d play-acted long enough. Ernie fired a curse, followed by another that was off-center, and she deliberately dodged the first by moving into the path of the second. When the Stinging Jinx hit her, she jumped, pretending to be surprised, and dropped her wand. Ernie quickly Summoned it, effectively ending the duel.

The class applauded Ernie’s success and he returned Hermione’s casual grin. She was confident she’d be chosen to duel less often and walked over to Ernie in relief. She briefly allowed her fingers to brush his as she took back her wand.

There was no shock. She was rapidly running out of wizards her own age to test and dreaded the day Draco Malfoy would be the only one left.

*** *** ***

“I saw how much you were struggling today,” Theo murmured.

Hermione and Theo were alone in their common room since the others had Quidditch practice. She wasn’t used to having a friend who was so observant, since that person was usually _her_ ; she squeezed her eyes shut and wished she were somewhere else.

“Please don’t run away again,” Theo said softly as he guessed her feelings. “But we need to discuss it. We know your magic isn’t completely within your control–”

“I’m working on it,” Hermione said through gritted teeth. “The duels are troublesome because I’m trying to focus on using minimal force but still duel convincingly.”

“The legend says you’ll have better control of your magic after you complete the bonds with us–”

“ _No_ , Theo, that’s not happening. It’s bad enough that you lot are stuck to me as it is, and you’re pushing me to find two more. I don’t want to make it even worse …”

“I didn’t realize we were such a _burden_ on you,” Theo teased, pretending to sound hurt.

She rolled her eyes. “Theo, you already want to be near me all the time as it is, and we’re only friends! A magical bond is … it’s like a marriage. It’s _forever_ , and it completely removes your choice. Harry and Ron and I have been stuck together for ages; we made that choice a long time ago, but I don’t want to trap you and two other people with me forever.” _One day you’ll resent me for it._

“I think you’re misunderstanding what this is supposed to be,” Theo insisted. “I think completing the bond will just make the connection we already have a little bit stronger, so we can help you tether your magic. It’s not going to be a burden for any of us; it’ll be exactly what we want.”

“I can hardly imagine it getting stronger,” Hermione admitted as she gripped her quill tightly. “I feel the bond already. I feel better when you three are around, and I’m kind of … _torn_ when I’m away from any of you.”

“And yet you’ve no trouble running away,” he joked. “But I think it’s gotten stronger already, since you accepted who you are.”

Hermione sighed resignedly. “Maybe that’s why I tried to deny it for so long; I was so afraid that admitting things would make them become real.”

“And now?” he asked softly.

“Oh, it’s _very_ real now,” she rubbed her eyes. “I feel something all the time, as if there’s invisible strings connecting me to you three. When I’m further away the strings get tense, and now even when I’m in the same room I feel this sort of … _pressure._ It’s like the strings are trying to pull me in even closer.”

“Yes … I know what you mean,” Theo suddenly stood and shyly reached a hand to her. “Could I …?” She immediately stood and wrapped her arms around his waist. The proverbial string was practically nonexistent, and she breathed in contentment.

Theo hugged her close. He was tall like Ron, so he had to tilt his head slightly to rest his chin on her head. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I don’t know why, exactly …”

“I can feel it too,” she said softly, but she was hesitant to admit what she knew: _Your soul wants mine to be close._

His warm arms tightened around her, and she closed her eyes. The implications still made her nervous, but she knew she would have no nightmares tonight.

*** *** ***


	15. Of Secrets and Suspicions

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 15: Of Secrets and Suspicions**

Ginny hummed under her breath as she dressed. Hermione looked over in confusion. “Are you feeling OK?”

“I’m allowed to be happy!” Ginny defended.

“We have double Potions first and you _hate_ Potions. I expected you to be miserable.”

Ginny sighed as she pulled on her socks. “I forgot about that. But it doesn’t matter; it’s Valentine’s Day and my boyfriend isn’t off hunting horcruxes this year, so I’m going to be happy!”

Hermione bit her lip and debated skipping breakfast.

*** *** ***

The morning of Valentine’s Day always saw an excessive amount of pink and red cards in the owl post – often with glitter – and Hermione tried to eat as fast as possible while resisting the urge to Silence or Stun every squealing girl around her.

Unfortunately, this included Ginny today, who squealed at Harry and kissed him quite thoroughly – much to Ron’s distaste – when she unwrapped a pair of Golden Snitch earrings that matched her charm bracelet. Harry kissed back with equal enthusiasm after opening his gift; Ginny, with Ron’s reluctant help, had stolen a picture of Harry’s parents from his photo album, magically enlarged it, and mounted it in an engraved frame.

Ron sorted through the dozen or so envelopes that fell onto his plate with a confused expression. They left a pile of technicolour hearts and enchanted glitter that he couldn’t successfully charm off his pancakes. He blushingly tried to stuff the envelopes away, but Seamus was quick. He managed to swipe one and read it aloud in a high-pitched voice; the third-year Gryffindor who sent it ran from the table in tears.

Over at the Hufflepuff table, Neville presented Hannah with a rather ugly potted plant that caused several eyebrows to go up, but after Hannah excitedly performed the correct spell the bogey-coloured bulbs burst open to reveal beautiful violets striped with gold.

Daphne Greengrass wasn’t the only new addition to the Ravenclaw table; next to her and Anthony sat Parvati Patil who chatted happily with her twin Padma and her new boyfriend Terry Boot.

Hermione ignored a second squeal from Ginny, but Ginny demanded her friend’s attention by gesturing wildly with the other envelope in her hand, which wasn’t in Valentine’s colours. “Baby … Fleur had the baby!”

“Oh!” Hermione’s entire demeanour changed. Ginny hugged Harry excitedly while Ron read the letter quickly with a grin and then handed it over to Hermione.

“Victoire,” Hermione read with a smile. “What a beautiful name!”

“I’m an _aunt!_ ” Ginny was saying breathlessly over and over. Ron got a rather strange look on his face and suddenly became quite interested in the bowl of fruit in front of him.

“Puts the earrings in perspective,” Hermione teased Harry under her breath.

“I don’t think I’ll be giving her a present like _that_ for a while yet,” he murmured back with a grin.

Hermione just finished swallowing her porridge when an unfamiliar owl dropped something in her empty bowl. The envelope wasn’t red or pink – _thank Merlin_ – so she assumed it was safe to open. The script on the small note looked vaguely familiar …

Hermione shoved the note in her pocket quickly and left the Hall while the others were still distracted. She suddenly understood why Pansy Parkinson was sitting alone and pouting.

*** *** ***

Although Blaise didn’t doubt Theo’s loyalty, he couldn’t help but wonder if the formerly isolated Slytherin had an ulterior motive for suddenly spending time with the Gryffindors. If there was a conspiracy of some kind, Blaise wanted in on it. He finally had a chance to confront Theo in the Slytherin common room while Draco was busy with Quidditch practice.

“Hoping to steal Granger away for yourself?” he murmured. Theo raised an eyebrow and Blaise pointed out, “The Potter-Malfoy rivalry might’ve calmed down this year, but I don’t think anyone expected them to suddenly become best mates with a Slytherin.”

“And yet, you insist I would make a better Ravenclaw anyway,” Theo retorted calmly.

“Touché.” Blaise watched as Theo returned to his homework.

“So, trying to go after Weasel Junior, then?” Blaise prodded. “Or _Potter?_ You’ve never specified–”

“Your interrogation techniques need some work, Zabini. I think you can imagine another reason for my spending time with other people, apart from a hidden desire to pursue unprecedented homosexual marriage to a war hero far out of my league.”

“Big of you to admit it. Seriously Theo, what’s so fascinating about the red and gold team suddenly?”

“Oh, I understand. Naturally, you’re hoping to marry a war hero yourself and you’re seeking my advice. Ron happens to be single–”

Blaise punched his friend on the arm and Theo held back a wince. Blaise often forgot his own strength. “As it happens, we have more in common than I initially anticipated, and I find their company pleasing,” Theo said simply to Blaise’s obstinance. “If I recall, you don’t complain when you get paired up in class with Hermione.”

“Sure, ‘cause she’s smart and nice to look at.”

“And the others aren’t?” Theo chortled. “We both know you’re attracted to redheads; I dunno why you won’t just admit you’re interested in Ron–” he conjured a Shield Charm before Blaise could land the next punch and continued, “besides, they’re more intelligent than you assume. Ginny has a brilliant memory, Harry is an excellent sparring partner, and Ron is the only person who can beat me at chess.”

“No bloody way, you’re undefeated!”

“Not anymore, it would seem. Let me ask you something. Have you touched Hermione lately? Shaken her hand, perhaps?”

Blaise stared. “OK, I finally get it. Draco hired you to make sure nobody lays a hand on his witch.”

“As if Draco could afford _my_ private investigative services,” Theo said mockingly. “Besides, I rather thought nosing into his love life was _your_ job.”

“I don’t make him pay me.”

“How charitable of you. You failed to answer my question, however.”

“Very well, yes, I shook her hand,” Blaise gave in. “It was back when … you know, Draco and I were her prison guards. I think it was the same day I had to literally pick her up ‘cause she tried to escape.”

“I see. But you’ve not made contact with her since?”

“And you’re asking because _you_ have?” Blaise leaned in suspiciously. Theo opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Draco parading through the door in very wet Quidditch gear.

“Bloody rain … it’s too early for rain … bloody Weasley making us _fly in the rain_.” Draco shook his head, spraying his friends with water droplets. Theo pulled out his wand and cast a wordless Drying Charm.

“Oh, I keep forgetting that spell. What’re you two doing? You’ve got those … looks.”

“Hm?” Blaise looked up at the blond innocently.

“You two are conspiring.” Draco said suspiciously. Sometimes he missed Crabbe and Goyle; they would never dare to discuss anything important without him.

“We are Slytherins, after all.” Theo said smoothly. “Perhaps if you seek a warm, comforting welcome, you should frequent the Hufflepuff common room?” Draco briefly bumped Theo with his broomstick as he went to change.

Blaise immediately returned his attention to Theo, awaiting an answer with a suspicious look. Theo was duly impressed with Blaise’s devotion to his best friend. “Alright Zabini, I’ll make you a deal. I want you to find an excuse to shake hands with Hermione … this week. If you do, I’ll tell you why I’m spending time with the Gryffindors.”

*** *** ***

Hermione was safely in bed listening to Parvati’s steady breathing before she unfolded her Valentine’s Day note:

_“Your friend or enemy I may be,_

_Depending whose hand holds the hilt of me.”_

“A sword,” Hermione whispered under her breath. The parchment folded itself accordingly and transformed into a small silver sword.

Hermione swallowed and stared at her curtains. Apart from the Elemental Mage legend and Voldemort’s horcruxes, this was one of the most frustrating things she’d ever dealt with. Were his gifts or his behaviour conveying his true feelings? Either way, she was terrified of what her friends would think. She hadn’t told anyone, even Ginny, about her dreams. If she could be interested in any other boy at Hogwarts, they would surely be supportive, but _him?_

Besides, according to the legend – which was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore – her “heart” was pre-destined. Her feelings might not matter if the bond connected her to someone else, and she could only stall so long before the others noticed she was trying to avoid shocking someone else.

Hermione managed to fall asleep eventually. The silver charm gleamed on her bedside table, and the matching silver eyes of her heart’s forbidden desire swam around in her dreams.

*** *** ***

“Slow down there, big guy.” Ginny caught up to Theo in the Charms corridor and jumped in front of him to make him stop.

“May I help you, Miss Weasley?” he replied formally, knowing she’d retort.

“It’s Ginny unless you want me to start calling you _Nott_ again. Now, I want to know what you know.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you think I know.”

Ginny squinted at him. “I _know_ those three better than anybody, and I like to think I can pull strings every so often to get them to smarten up, but ever since you joined up with us, you’re pulling so many strings you’re practically a puppet master. So, spill. What d’you know?”

Theo grinned at her. “You know I admire your insight, Ginny. You’re quite correct, I know a little more than I’m letting on. But I promise you I’m not holding back anything for a dangerous reason, or a selfish one.”

Ginny tilted her head. “I can believe that,” she said slowly. “You’re not acting like you’re in this for _you_.”

“Correct, I’m in it for Hermione. And keeping certain information to myself is in her best interest right now.”

“You scared about stressing her out more?”

“Wouldn’t it be a good thing if I were?”

“Did you notice she’s deliberately avoiding touching anyone lately?”

“Did you expect her to behave differently?”

“Do you know who’s chasing after her?”

“I presume you’re not talking about Shadows?”

Ginny folded her arms and let him win the round of verbal sparring with a sigh. “Somebody’s sending her Link charms. She got one for Christmas, and another for Valentine’s Day, which she didn’t tell us about. Someone’s trying to get her attention, and I think she’s figured out who it is. The only thing we know for sure is they come from an old wizarding family because nobody else knows what Link charms are.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking if it’s me?”

“I know it isn’t you. But I think _you_ know who it is.”

“Ah, well after all, Hermione calls me her wise old owl,” Theo drawled. “But surely a fellow puppet master is capable of pulling a few strings of her own?” He winked at Ginny and carefully slipped around her to his next class.

*** *** ***

To Hermione’s disappointment, it was only a week before she was duelling in Defence Against the Dark Arts again, although this time Professor Gangrous didn’t choose her.

“One final pair to duel … ah, Mr. Zabini, come on up and choose a partner.” Blaise sauntered into the middle of the room and spun around slowly, eyeing his classmates. He pulled out his wand and walked in Hermione’s direction, but suddenly took half a step back, as though reconsidering.

“Afraid of me, Blaise?” Hermione teased, although she crossed her fingers that he’d pick someone else. There were a few mumbles heard around the classroom, but Blaise faked a huge sigh and bowed her into the circle. He caught Theo’s subtle smirk out of the corner of his eye, but Hermione missed it.

They raised their wands and bowed, and Professor Gangrous counted: “Three … two … one …”

Since Hermione taught Blaise much of what he knew, he expected she’d find his standard approach predictable. He tried to use uncommon spells, but she kept up with him easily. Her Tickling Charm bounced off his shield and he returned a Tongue-Tying Jinx, which she deflected quickly. She immediately followed with a Stunner his way, which he dodged perfectly. He dared to risk an _Incendio_ to the hem of her robes, hoping to distract her, but she doused it with a jet of water conjured so quickly he nearly missed the flick of her wand.

After another exchange of jinxes, Blaise decided to send two nonverbal Body-Binds in her direction. He anticipated the direction she would move; to his delight she managed to dodge the first, but she walked right into the second and fell stiffly to the floor.

The Slytherins burst into applause and Blaise grinned as he removed the spell and reached down to help Hermione to her feet. She returned his smirk with a small, embarrassed smile and put her hand in his.

The shock ran up her arm like a lightning bolt and she gasped … but she should’ve _known_.

The bell rang. Hermione pulled her hand away from Blaise as quickly as possible, snatched up her bag under the eyes of her confused classmates, and dashed out the door.

Theo kept his expression steady as he watched the interaction. He glanced towards Harry and Ron, who exchanged looks with each other and promptly ran out the door after Hermione.

Theo wasn’t worried; they’d find her. He had the fun part – he could finally tell Blaise the truth.

*** *** ***

Draco was as stunned as everyone else when Hermione broke away from Blaise and ran out the door as if his hand burned her. If she were anyone else, he might’ve thought she had an issue touching a Slytherin, but Granger was the most unlikely student to be offended by such a thing, and there was no way Blaise tried to hurt her.

Draco turned to Theo, expecting them to exchange confused looks, but was even more stunned to see a tiny grin on Theo’s face. Draco opened his mouth, but Theo slipped through the crowd of exiting students to clap Blaise on the back in congratulations and simultaneously slip a piece of parchment into his friend’s pocket with a subtlety that only a Slytherin would recognize.

_What the bloody hell is going on?_

*** *** ***

Theo wasn’t surprised when Blaise found him working at a quiet table in the back of the library about fifteen minutes after class. The dark Slytherin roughly pulled back a chair and slapped down the parchment Theo had slipped him – a copy of the _Mage Elementum_.

“Nott … explain …”

Theo laid down his quill and quietly tented his fingers under his chin. Blaise was flushed and shaking, and Theo amusedly watched him try and piece his scattered thoughts together.

“It’s … it’s just a bloody poem … but you’re obsessed with it– it’s … _real?_ ”

“Quite real.”

Blaise dug his fingers into his hair. “We thought it was a laugh … I teased Draco that it was Granger– _you_ _knew!_ How in the name of Merlin’s wet, saggy, bloody–” Theo knew if he let Blaise keep ranting, he’d simply curse under his breath for the next five or six minutes.

“Yes, I knew. She touched my hand before Christmas and gave me a shock as well. I spoke to her briefly, not letting on that I suspected something, and discovered she and her friends were studying the legend. Over Christmas I investigated, as you know, and when we returned, I exchanged my theories with the Gryffindors.”

“ _This_ is why you’ve been hanging around them?”

“Precisely. We’ve confirmed Harry, Ron, and I are her Guardians. Ginny isn’t directly involved, but she knows the truth as well.” Blaise stared. Theo waited patiently.

“I thought this was all a joke,” Blaise whispered. “I thought you were studying this bloody thing for fun …”

“I let you have your assumptions. I wasn’t entirely convinced it was real either until I spent more time with Hermione. I’ve seen enough now, I’ve _felt_ enough. It’s very true, Blaise. And I believe you’re the fourth Guardian.”

Blaise shook his head in disbelief. “This is … I helped you with that bloody book. The Mage is the most powerful witch to walk the earth … _Granger_ – you actually think I’m powerful enough to protect _her?_ ”

“And why wouldn’t you be?”

Blaise rose to his feet and started pacing. “Theo, no way. You, yes. You’re clever beyond all reason, just like her. Potter, sure, the man survived death a dozen times. And Weasley’s her best friend, but I’m just …”

“You’re more powerful than you think,” Theo said calmly. He half-expected a reaction like this. “You recall from our research that the Guardians have different prominent abilities?” Blaise nodded, still pacing. “I believe you’re the Guardian representing fire. _Strength_.”

“Theo, I can do a lot of push-ups,” Blaise said weakly. “I’m not _really_ strong, not enough to protect the bloody Elemental Mage herself–”

“You’re quite mistaken,” Theo said firmly. “In fact, I believe you’ve successfully protected her already.”

Blaise stopped pacing and braced himself with his hands on the table. “No, that was all Draco, I was just … no way, this is … ruddy …”

“Imagine how hard it was for Hermione to accept this was true, especially considering she didn’t grow up with magic like us. It took a load of convincing, and a bit of chasing her after she ran away in defiance.”

Blaise looked up in concern. “She ran today – she knows it’s me?”

“Yes, she would’ve felt the shock as you did.”

“Salazar … Theo, she– she freaked out–!” he choked. Despite being a good flirt, Blaise was still growing accustomed to having girls in his life in a platonic fashion and he didn’t want to wreck the friendship he built with Hermione.

Theo read the look in the other boy’s eyes and didn’t like it. He stood and pushed Blaise backwards into his chair. Normally he had no physical power over his friend, but Blaise was about as limp as a Licorice Wand right now.

“Listen to me, Blaise. She reacted because the shock surprised her, and because everything about this legend has her on edge. She did _not_ run away because of you. I’ve spent time with her for weeks now; I know she trusts you, and part of her likely suspected you all along. She’s just afraid. She tries to distance herself from all of this because it frightens her.”

“She should be afraid …” Blaise muttered. “I held her captive–”

“That’s enough.” Theo said firmly. “I’m familiar with the circumstances. You never harmed her, and she’s been friendly with you this year; don’t you think she would’ve kept her distance if she feared you?”

Blaise finally looked up from his hands even though his eyes were quite blank. He pointed weakly to the poem. _Lupus the Warrior, a champion of fire._

“You think this is _me?_ ” Blaise whispered.

“Only one way to know for sure. Tell me, do you think you could find Hermione right now?”

*** *** ***

Harry and Ron finally caught up with Hermione at the top of the South Tower, and they had to tap into their magical instincts that they didn’t quite understand in order to make sure they were going the right way.

“Stop … running … away …” Ron gasped as he made it up the last set of stairs and caught sight of her. Hermione’s power must make her faster, he thought; there was no way she could normally beat him and his long legs in a footrace.

Hermione was in tears, facing the stained-glass window overlooking the lake. “Hey,” Harry came up and immediately reached for her. “Why’re you upset?”

“It’s not fair …” Hermione whispered. “I dragged you two into this, and then Theo, and now _Blaise_ …”

“Hermione, you didn’t drag anyone into anything, what’re you on about?”

“I didn’t want _any_ of this!” She cried. “I didn’t want this wild magic to show up out of the blue and scare people and give me nightmares and you lot are getting roped into this madness and Theo’s talking about magical _bonds_ then you’ll all be stuck to me forever and I don’t know how to–!”

“Hermione,” Ron grabbed her by the shoulder and made her look at him. “This _isn’t_ your fault. You didn’t pick us, your magic did–” She tried to protest, and he cut her off. “No, listen. None of us chose this, not really, just like Harry didn’t choose to be the hero, but we _want_ to be in this with you!”

“You’re so convinced,” Hermione sobbed. “You think you need to because the poem–”

“Forget the poem,” Harry said fiercely. “Hermione, the legend only told us what was already happening. We didn’t pick this because we thought it was the right thing, or because we wanted to fulfill some prophecy; we’re with you because we _want_ to be. Don’t you remember when you told me the same thing? You knew the risks when you followed me against Voldemort, and you did it anyway!”

Hermione buried her face in her hands.

“Stop that,” Ron chided her gently.

“Yes, please stop,” came a voice from below them on the stairs. “I really hate it when girls cry.” They all turned and looked down at Blaise’s weak grin. Theo leaned against the wall a few steps down, looking quite pleased.

“You tracked her up here?” Harry asked Theo, who shook his head.

“Actually, I followed Blaise.”

Ron groaned. “Can’t believe we’re stuck with _another_ Slytherin.”

Hermione breathed rather heavily as she tried to hold back her tears. Theo noticed a look of concern cross Blaise’s face and gestured to Harry and Ron. Harry squeezed Hermione’s hand and joined Theo. Ron was less sure as he studied Blaise with a squint. Harry shot Ron an irritated look, nonverbally reminding him that Hermione had been spending time with Blaise for various projects all year; they had no reason to distrust him.

Ron sighed and hugged Hermione quickly. “Come meet us in the common room, eh?”

When the three wizards vanished down the stairs, Hermione slowly sat on the top step with a sigh, rubbing her tear-stained cheeks. “How much did Theo tell you?” she asked Blaise softly.

“Definitely not everything, because when Theo explains things properly it tends to take two or three days,” Blaise answered with a slight smirk. “I’ve still got some questions.”

She studied him from under her eyelashes. “You can ask anything you like.”

He sat down a step below her, so they were the same height. He leaned back on his elbows, trying to seem casual. “Why’d you run away?”

Hermione sniffled once. “I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I run when I’m … scared.”

“Scared ‘cause I beat you in our duel?” Blaise asked in what he hoped was a teasing voice.

To his surprise, Hermione chuckled. “You beat me because I’ve been holding back as much as possible. I can’t always control my magic, and if I genuinely feel threatened then it takes over and …”

“I didn’t expect to beat you,” Blaise admitted. “But I was worried you ran because you didn’t … I mean because I’m probably not who you wanted–”

“Oh, no!” Hermione exclaimed. “It’s not like that at all. I was– I was _angry_ , because I never wanted this stupid power in the first place, and it keeps interfering with everything and the people I care about and … and …” she was trying not to cry again.

Blaise rubbed his furrowed brow. “I’m confused. If you can’t control your power, then aren’t the Guardians supposed to help with that?”

“Well, yes, but it’s not that simple. The shock you felt when you touched me was just a reaction. But … Theo says we’re all supposed to magically _bond_ somehow …”

“Oh, right. What’s that entail?”

“We don’t know yet. Ginny thinks I’m supposed to find all five first.”

“I’m the fourth?”

She nodded. “I’m so sorry …”

Blaise laughed. “You’re upset ‘cause you thought I wouldn’t want this? Merlin, Granger. Theo spent the last half hour trying to convince me this was all real. I was bloody sure it was a mistake. Believing you’re the Mage is easy, but that you’d want _me_ for a Guardian? I reckoned he was off his rocker.”

“Why on earth …?” Hermione spluttered. “You’re a fantastic wizard, do you really doubt yourself so much?”

Blaise studied her shoes. “I suppose I don’t hold myself to very high standards. I’m … not totally convinced.”

Flashing back to her first walk with Theo, Hermione reached out slowly and touched the back of Blaise’s hand.

He felt the warmth from her touch, which seemed to radiate up his arm. “Wow … that’s–”

“According to Theo, that’s the bond. It’s not complete yet, but your magic reacted to mine. Then you focused on it to find me.” She took a breath; a small part of her still thought this whole thing was mad. “Believe it now?”

Blaise nodded slowly. “I didn’t even know magic like this existed.”

“Imagine how hard it was for _me_ , since I was raised as a Muggle.” Hermione answered softly.

“Right … you were raised with the magic of electricity.”

She smiled. “I’m pleased to know Muggle Studies hasn’t been entirely useless.”

“I actually enjoy it,” Blaise said earnestly. “I’d like to see a combuter some day.”

“Computer,” Hermione gently corrected. “Ron does too; I’ve been thinking this summer we should explore the Muggle world a little and Harry and I can show you some of those things for real. It’s too bad, really, that they don’t work in Hogwarts.”

“I’d like that.” He was silent for a moment, looking at her hand. “I have another question. Will I ever be able to get you out of my head?”

Hermione sighed. “It’s a side effect from the bond. I promise, over time it’ll become easier to ignore me.”

*** *** ***


	16. Of Anger and Articles

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 16: Of Anger and Articles**

Draco begrudgingly accepted that Theo always joined the Gryffindors for breakfast. If the bookworm wanted to hang out with another bookworm, so be it. Slytherins weren’t the most trustworthy of people, but Draco easily believed all Theo wanted from Granger was her brain. Despite being tall, dark, and handsome, his friend never seemed to care about dating.

Blaise, on the other hand …

Draco thought his eyeballs were about to roll out of his skull as his best friend promptly took a seat next to Theo at the Gryffindor table and began a casual conversation with the Gryffindor war heroes.

_What is happening?!_

Draco remained mostly indifferent to the inter-house stuff that the teachers were pushing – even though he didn’t particularly enjoy doing Herbology projects with the Hufflepuffs – but this was going way too far. Pansy flopped down next to Draco and stared openly at Blaise and Theo. “This is a nightmare,” she hissed. “What is that stupid little bitch doing?”

Draco looked sideways at Pansy darkly. “They’re talking to Potter.” _But she’s right there, too._

“It’s all _her_ fault, I know it.” Pansy insisted. “She’s trying to get them all under a spell, so they don’t challenge her when she tries to take over–”

Draco didn’t hide his derisive snort. “Granger doesn’t wanna take over anything but the library.”

“Draco baby, you see what she’s been doing lately–”

“ _Don’t_ call me that.”

“She keeps using too much power!” Pansy cried. “She’s dangerous and she and her horrible friends are luring _everybody_ to their side, even Daphne! And did you forget what she almost did to _me?_ She’s a monster! She’s …” Pansy dropped her voice to a low hiss. “Everyone thought Potter was powerful, but _she_ could be the next Dark Lord!”

Draco debated magically throwing Pansy across the room, but he’d avoided detention so far this year and couldn’t risk his sentence being questioned by the Ministry. He settled for scoffing at her indignantly and ignoring her for the rest of breakfast.

The war changed him; he knew he was a better person than he once was. He was less concerned about superiority and less jealous when others succeeded – specifically, when Potter did better than him. Even when Weasley outflew him during Quidditch practice, Draco learned to not mind too much.

It had taken most of the year for Draco to stop resenting his old rivals for spending time with the girl _he_ wanted, but now his resolve was being pushed to the limit. He clenched his hand into a fist and tried to pretend his only friends hadn’t been stolen by Harry Potter.

*** *** ***

Ginny was thrilled to find out Blaise joined the group and thumped him on the back in the manner of a Quidditch captain.

“The only rules around here are play nice, keep the secret safe, and don’t hurt Hermione or I’ll cut your bits off,” Ginny told the newcomer happily. Hermione laughed as all the boys winced. Ginny chattered away with Blaise and Hermione buried herself in the chapter on Advanced Time-Delayed Potions while Theo whispered to Harry.

“We need Alitis now,” Theo said under his breath. “Hermione hasn’t dated anyone this year, has she?”

“Somebody sent her a courting gift at Christmas,” Harry whispered back. “We never found out who it was–”

“I have a hunch, but I’ll need to confirm–” The loud arrival of the post, along with Ron’s passionate argument with Dean about the Griffins cut the conversation short. Blaise looked up and expertly caught the rolled-up _Daily Prophet_ dropped to him by a horned owl, which simultaneously caught a Knut it its beak that Blaise tossed up to it, making Ginny giggle.

“Show-off,” Theo murmured behind his glass. Blaise ignored him and unrolled his paper with the air of an at-peace upper-class gentleman with a perfectly sweetened cup of coffee in his other hand. Anxious to get an early start, Hermione departed the Hall while the others lingered happily discussing the upcoming Quidditch match between the Dragons and the Hippogriffs.

“Actually, Celeste Collins is a really good Seeker,” Harry was musing. “I remember during tryouts she was right on Malfoy’s tail.”

“I’m more concerned about their Keeper,” Ginny said with a twisted frown. “I swear that bloke is half-boulder from the size of him; he could hover in front of a goal and block it without even moving–”

Blaise suddenly choked on his drink and gaped at his paper.

“What?” Theo leaned in to read over his shoulder. Blaise pointed at a small article which Theo skimmed rapidly. He closed his eyes. “Oh, this is not good …”

“They’ve been looking for ages,” Blaise murmured quietly. “Of course, I had no idea ‘til now …”

Theo glanced at the bewildered Gryffindors and mouthed, _Later_. Blaise stowed his paper, and they departed the Hall as casually as possible.

*** *** ***

“Shouldn’t Hermione be here?” Ron asked in concern. It was late afternoon; the Guardians and Ginny gathered near the edge of the Forest far from prying ears. The Gryffindors hadn’t kept track of the paper since Neville – their only friend who still subscribed – was busy cultivating new Mandrakes in the early mornings with Professor Sprout.

“She’s meeting with some Ravenclaws for a Potions thing,” Ginny answered. “She’ll be in the common room in about an hour.”

Blaise extracted his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and wordlessly handed it to the Gryffindors.

_DESPERATE SEARCH CONTINUES_

_The Department of Mysteries still frantically seeks a witch of unknown identity who is supposedly the key to solving one of the Department’s oldest mysteries. Despite public confusion and doubt, the Unspeakables continue to insist their search is of the utmost importance but refuse to provide much information. All they will say is the witch is powerful and will be nineteen years of age before spring._

_“It’s our business,” an Unspeakable said firmly in January when reporters asked for more details. “If it becomes public business, you’ll know about it.”_

_A team of Unspeakables has travelled up and down the country for months meeting with countless women of the right age but remain unsuccessful in identifying the right witch. It is unknown whether she is still in school. One Unspeakable was overheard, “She has enormous potential. If our theories are correct, she could very well hold enough power to save the world OR destroy it.”_

_Locally respected, self-proclaimed Seer Ruthie Twinnick of Edgebrook publicly scoffed at the Unspeakables when they came to search her town for this mystery witch. “One person can’t have that much power; did you cauldron-heads learn nothing from the downfall of You-Know-Who?”_

_London witch Tyra Polling countered, “But we know one person can SAVE the world; we had Harry Potter! Now, are they looking for the next Chosen One? Or could this witch be the next Dark Lord?”_

Ginny had her hand over her mouth. Ron cursed under his breath and Harry held the paper very tightly in his fist. “We can’t tell her,” Ginny murmured. “They think she’s dangerous … if she finds out she’ll go right to the Ministry and turn herself in!”

“That’s rubbish,” Blaise commented. “She’s not dangerous–”

“Do you remember before Christmas she duelled that Ravenclaw and hit him with a Stinging Jinx?” Theo asked softly.

“Salazar, _that’s_ why she’s been holding back …”

“We found out from Hagrid that Unspeakables were trying to get into the castle last fall,” Harry told Blaise as he started crumbling the paper to shreds in his hands. “They just kept telling McGonagall they had to _find her_.”

Blaise felt his hands curl into fists. “I don’t … I don’t understand why I’m so _angry_ –”

“We all are,” Ron managed. “But Harry and I are kinda used to worrying about Hermione.”

“This is new to you,” Theo murmured to his friend. “The bond tells us to do anything to protect her, to keep her away from anyone who might harm her or take her away …”

Blaise answered by turning toward the Forest and punching a tree – or rather, the enchantment blocking the tree. He ignored the sharp sting in his hand. “It’ll get easier.” Theo reassured him. “Right now, we need to decide what to do about this.”

“What if McGonagall lets the Unspeakables into Hogwarts?” Blaise ventured desperately. “If they figure out who she is–”

“I don’t want McGonagall to think we’re hiding something,” Harry insisted. “She’s already got this place locked down tighter than Azkaban. Nobody’s getting in here. Maybe we should keep Hermione away from Hogsmeade for a while, though.”

Ron nodded and added, “Ginny’s right, we can’t tell Hermione they think she’s dangerous. She’ll try and turn herself in; she’s already more scared than she’ll admit–”

“She _needs_ to stabilize her magic,” Ginny said softly. Theo tugged at his sleeves anxiously.

“I’ve been going over everything the alchemist wrote about the bonds. So far, we’ve only reacted to Hermione’s magic; we’ve no more control over it right now than she does. After the bonds are complete, the alchemist predicted her power would split itself among the five of us to create a safer balance. It makes sense, except I haven’t figured out _how_ we’re supposed to bond …”

“I reckon we can’t do it without the missing Guardian,” Harry grumbled. He finished shredded the newspaper which now lay in tiny pieces around his feet. “She’s not gonna be happy about affecting _another_ person with this–” A thumping sound caused Blaise and Theo to suddenly snap to attention. The Gryffindors, recognizing the footsteps, simply turned to greet Hagrid as he emerged from the treeline.

“Yer all lookin’ pretty concerned abou’ summat,” Hagrid observed. He glanced down at the shredded paper around Harry’s feet.

“The Department of Mysteries is still looking for Hermione,” Harry gritted through his teeth. Hagrid glanced around and took notice of Blaise.

“Hagrid, this is my friend Blaise Zabini,” Theo said. “He bonded with Hermione yesterday.”

“I remember him,” Hagrid growled, although the Gryffindors noticed the twinkle in his dark eyes. “Caught ‘im sneakin’ around wi’ Malfoy once after hours an’ they though’ they could hide from me in th’ Forest. Didn’ do yeh any good though, did it?”

“I, er …” Blaise started. It wasn’t often that someone posed a physical threat to him, so he was a little intimidated by Hagrid no matter how much Malfoy insisted the big man was a pushover.

“Never mind,” Hagrid’s tone softened considerably. “Saw you fightin’ Death Eaters wi’ our side at th’ Battle jus’ like Malfoy. Goes ter show trouble-makin’ kids can still grow up righ’, eh Harry?” he tossed Harry a wink making the Weasleys laugh. “So, our Hermione bonded wi’ another Slytherin, then? Glad some o’ yeh are takin’ Harry’s speech ter heart.” Hagrid glanced down fondly at the bespectacled student. “Dumbledore woulda been right proud o’ yeh, Harry.”

Harry grinned at the ground. Blaise looked much less uncomfortable, and Hagrid waved them all to follow him. “C’mon then, you lot, yer gonna help me peel some potaters and I got some questions fer Hermione’s lates’ Guardian.”

*** *** ***

Hermione left the Potions dungeon grateful that the meeting was over. She’d successfully compiled notes with two Ravenclaws for an antidote project, but the Trevor bloke she didn’t care for wouldn’t stop staring at her the whole time. Based on the confused look Padma Patil gave him, Hermione assumed this wasn’t his normal behaviour. She made a mental note to ask Ginny about Trevor. Even though she spent most of her time around boys, she was grossly incompetent at identifying flirtatious behaviour, and she was hardly accustomed to boys looking at her so often. Most of the unwanted flirting she received at the beginning of the year stopped after word spread quickly about her nonverbal hexing ability.

She headed in the direction of the third-floor common room to bury herself in Arithmancy until the others caught up with her. Tempted as she was to study in the library on her own, she knew she needed to get to know Blaise better. Though they were decent friends anyway, she’d felt a strong subconscious pull to have him nearby since yesterday.

Hermione frowned to herself. Was the bond trying to tell her Blaise was the one she was supposed to be in love with? After she shocked Theo she hadn’t felt a strong urge to keep him close, so there was something different about Blaise. Except Ginny insisted the _Heart_ should be the last person she bonded to–

Hermione’s stray thoughts almost made her walk into a wall. _Focus on NEWTs_ , she scolded herself firmly. School and career plans were more important than mystical magic legends or daydreaming about boys. Like Blaise … or Draco Malfoy, who happened to be walking straight toward her.

Hermione opened her mouth to say hello, but he pushed past her roughly, making her bag swing. _Perfect_ , she thought bitterly. _He’s progressed from avoiding me to ignoring me completely._

*** *** ***

Blaise liked Hagrid, despite years of listening to Malfoy complain about him. The half-giant clearly had a soft spot for Hermione and seemed just as protective as her Guardians. Hagrid chuckled when Blaise easily lifted a huge bucket of potatoes that Harry and Ron struggled to carry together, and interestedly asked questions about Blaise’s physical training.

When the impromptu visit ended, the Gryffindors headed off to Quidditch practice and Theo went to the library for a group assignment. Blaise paused in the Entrance Hall, deep in thought.

He hadn’t slept well the night before; his mind buzzed with images and memories of Hermione. As he lay in bed, he recalled enjoyable debates they had over Runes, her helpful tips with his wandless magic, and her determination to escape from their dormitory to fight for what she believed in, even if it could get her killed. He allowed the images of her to _reach_ , somehow … he’d never experienced such a thing, but suddenly he was visualizing himself walking through the dark corridors in her direction as though following a trail leading right to Gryffindor Tower.

He rolled over in bed and convinced himself he was being ridiculous. It was three in the morning, of _course_ she was in Gryffindor Tower. Blaise knew where the entrance was – Draco wanted them to know last year in case Hermione got away from them – he wasn’t following some magical trail in his head, that was absurd …

And yet, he’d found her yesterday at Theo’s direction. He found her in his _mind._

Blaise leaned against the wall in the Entrance Hall and closed his eyes. Her face swam into the forefront of his mind with ease. He was grateful Theo told him quickly about this whole Guardian thing; otherwise, based on how much the witch suddenly invaded his thoughts, he might’ve wondered if he swallowed a love potion.

He could _feel_ her, now, as though she were a bright torch burning in the castle, or as though she had a unique scent he could follow. He chuckled to himself. The poem called him _Lupus_ , the Wolf. Perhaps he was literally _tracking_ her. In his mind he strolled the corridors, climbed some stairs, and found himself in a room on the third floor he’d never entered.

 _Here goes nothing._ He jogged up the marble staircase and headed towards the mystery room, wondering if his instincts were correct. Believing in the Elemental Mage wasn’t a stretch for him – his wide travels had led him to believe in far stranger legends – but the idea that _he_ was supposed to be bound to the most powerful witch of the era was still laughable.

He was one corridor from his destination when an angry figure with blond hair blocked his path.

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on, Blaise?”

*** *** ***

Hermione looked up from her textbook, surprised to hear raised voices echoing down the corridor. This wasn’t a popular area. Wand in hand, she crept to the door.

“… nothing to do with you!”

“Then why is it a secret?”

“You’re so bloody spoiled you think you need to know _everything_ …”

“ _Spoiled?!_ I’ve got _nothing_ left!”

“You’re wrong. You _know_ you’re wrong.”

“Really? ‘Cause it seems like my last two friends are ditching me for a sodding bunch of _Potter-lovers!_ ” There was a pause. Hermione knew the voices; she peered around the doorframe to see the Slytherins facing off at the end of the corridor.

“Listen to me,” Blaise was saying firmly. “Theo and I have a reason for talking to the Gryffindors right now, but it’s _none of your business_. And if you trusted us–”

“Why should I bother?” Draco snapped. “You clearly don’t trust _me_ anymore.” He pushed roughly past Blaise and his footsteps quickly disappeared. Blaise rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and shuffled towards the common room.

He stopped short when he saw Hermione just inside the door and he bit his lip. “You heard that.”

“I’m ruining everything,” she said softly. “I took Theo, and now you–”

“You took nothing,” Blaise said firmly. “It’s not your fault Draco’s close-minded and paranoid. We won’t stop being his friends, and he _knows_ that. Stubborn Prince Malfoy needs to learn to share,” he grumbled. Hermione coughed to hide her laugh, but Blaise heard it and grinned. He leaned against the doorway opposite her and studied her carefully without making eye contact. She tilted her head questioningly.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. He seemed unsteady on his feet as he shuffled them around. Blaise had a reputation as a confident flirt; Hermione was baffled to see him so uncomfortable.

“If you’d like to talk about something …” she let her voice trail off.

“I’ve never been in this room before, but I knew you were here,” he said with a half-grin. “I’m not sure if it’s cool, or mental. This bond is … I dunno.”

Hermione didn’t know either. She patiently waited for him to continue.

“I spent years only caring about myself,” he finally said slowly. “It was weird when I realized I cared about Draco, and I wanted to help him through the war because nobody else would look out for him,” he swallowed. “I’m not used to caring for someone else, and now all of a sudden–”

“Yes,” Hermione sighed as she crossed her arms. “I show up, and just like the others you want to follow me around all the time and make sure I won’t drop dead.”

Blaise bit his lip. “It’s more than that. I know it’s only been a day, but … I want to build you a secret room where you can hide from danger. I want to pick you up and shield you behind my back. I imagine you duelling someone, even in class, and I want to jump in front of you to take every curse …” Blaise squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly overwhelmed.

Hermione laid her hand on his arm. “I think it’ll get easier; this is still so new,” she said quietly. “I wish I could make it go away. I don’t like having this effect on people–” He cut her off with a finger to her lips.

“Maybe it helps you to say that,” he gritted through his teeth. “And I still don’t understand all this, but the idea of it going away makes me _furious_. Right now, I don’t even want you to take your hand away; the thought of you being gone completely is–” his voice broke off. He didn’t know how to explain that a wild animal – a wolf? – had awoken inside him and it wanted to hunt and destroy anything that ever harmed her.

Hermione was very pink, and she looked down at her shoes but didn’t move her hand from his arm. “I feel it, too,” she admitted softly, trying to ignore her pounding heart. “It’s … a little different with you for some reason. I didn’t feel much after Harry and Ron connected to me – I mean, I saw them every day so maybe it didn’t matter – but even after Theo, I was away all Christmas and it was alright …”

“I can’t imagine not being in the castle with you … I can’t imagine not being in the same _room_ as you right now,” he tried to keep his voice steady; the urge to pull her into his arms was overwhelming, even though she was right there and obviously not in danger.

“Well, I expect the other girls might complain if you started sleeping in my dormitory,” Hermione joked weakly. Blaise cracked a smile and Hermione felt the tension break. His smiles were practically contagious; with a pang, she realized he reminded her of Fred Weasley a little. She’d already liked him, but now, like Theo, she felt like she could trust him irrevocably.

Blaise took a breath. “Stop me if you want,” he said carefully. He lifted his arms and placed his hands tentatively around her shoulders.

Hermione shook her head with a smile. “Don’t stop.” She wrapped her arms around him easily as he embraced her with a sigh. His wild wolf was appeased, and she rested her head against his chest as he held her close. Safe.

*** *** ***

_“I can’t imagine not being in the same ROOM as you right now …”_

_“… you started sleeping in my dormitory.”_

_“Stop me if you want–”_

_“Don’t stop.”_

Draco’s heart pounded relentlessly in his chest as he stole a glance into the room he previously ignored. The sight of the girl he loved usually sent tingling to his palms and butterflies to his stomach.

But not today. Today she was nestled in the arms of his best friend who held her like a lover.

*** *** ***

The terrified cries rang in her head.

Struggling to see through her tears, Hermione somehow tore around trees and over fallen leaves and roots without tripping over her slipping feet. She ducked low-hanging branches but had already caught her hair on several. She ignored the bruises forming on her shoulders from trees she didn’t quite avoid. She didn’t know if she followed a path, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was distance.

It felt like hours. Her legs tingled as her muscles struggled to keep moving. At long last she slowed, bringing herself to rest against the bottom of a great oak tree. She gasped for breath, suddenly aware of the shooting pains through her legs and the stitch in her side. Her collar was soaked by tears.

Hermione slid to the ground and her head fell backwards against the great tree as she glanced around her for the first time. The woods were dense and thick. The tiny bit of sky she could make out through the branches above was dim; it must be nearly nightfall.

She swallowed a tiny bit of guilt. She knew how concerned her friends would be. She tried to ignore the invisible strings that connected her to them – they had never been stretched so tightly. The one connected to Blaise was almost _painful_ ; she spared a thought to wonder if it was just because their connection was so new, or if it was something else.

But the hurt was nothing, not when she imagined how they would look when they realized what happened … Theo in disappointment, Blaise in confusion, Ron with an open stare, and Harry with disbelief.

She fiercely brushed her tears away and disregarded the pain. She didn’t know which direction to take to find her way back, but that was good.

She could never go back.

*** *** ***


	17. Of Stars and Seers

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 17: Of Stars and Seers**

At dusk, the professors were called by a frantic second year who stumbled on twenty unconscious students sprawled across the lawn.

Professor McGonagall gently shook a sixth year Ravenclaw awake while Professor Slughorn carefully tilted a vial of Recovery Potion down the throat of a Slytherin girl nearby. Madam Pomfrey was running in all directions and called over to the Headmistress that at least five students had concussions and would need to be taken to the hospital wing.

Word spread around the school and older students and prefects came out to assist. Parvati tore down the stairs in tears when word reached her that Terry Boot was one of the concussed students. Most were revived without injury, but everyone required several Warming Charms thanks to the brisk February wind. The students were utterly clueless to the teachers’ desperate questions. A few people recalled needing to walk the grounds for some reason but couldn’t remember exactly why, and one very dizzy Slytherin boy simply said he needed to make something _stop_. None of them could tell the teachers if they’d been Stunned or knocked out.

Blaise hadn’t heard what happened yet; he was too busy tearing frantically around the school. He hadn’t seen Hermione since yesterday, but he wasn’t worried since she’d been so busy. Then, inexplicably, he felt a jolt of energy in his chest as though a bell clanged, and he just knew. _She’s in trouble._

He tried to reach out to her in his mind, but having found no connection to her in the castle he sprinted through the corridors in panic until he found Theo. When he quickly whispered what happened – in Theo’s ear so the confused students nearby heard nothing – Theo abandoned his possessions in the library and joined the search.

They ran to the Gryffindor portrait-hole and down to the Great Hall, where they finally heard about what happened outside. They found Harry and Ron conferring rapidly back and forth in the Entrance Hall.

“When did you last see Hermione?” demanded Theo, breathless from running.

“Did she get hurt too?” Blaise’s stamina was good; he was barely sweating.

Ron’s shoulders shook violently, and Harry burst out, “She never made it to dinner, and we can’t track her! I dunno if she was out there … nobody remembers seeing her.”

Neville exhaustedly slumped through the doors to share the latest news. He’d been assisting the professors on the grounds with Professor Sprout. “None of them know what happened,” Neville said shakily, only sparing a glance at the Slytherins listening as closely as his dormmates. “Some of them remember having dinner or studying and then suddenly waking up outside. A few people said they were going outside to find something – they don’t remember what – and there’s eight more who haven’t woken up yet; Madam Pomfrey’s gonna have her hands full …”

“Has anyone seen Hermione?” Harry asked desperately. Neville shook his head.

“I haven’t seen her since this morning in Charms–”

“Harry!” Hagrid was gesturing frantically from outside. The four wizards tore across the frosty ground towards him. Hagrid was helping lift the unconscious students onto stretchers. His breath made a cloud as he turned towards the group to whisper. “I didn’ think it were possible Harry, but I coulda sworn when I came back in from the Forest, I saw Hermione running’ past me like she were bein’ chased by a manticore–”

“How could she get into the Forest?” Ron hissed under his breath.

Hagrid shook his massive head, incredulous. “I dunno, but if it were her … tha’ was a good two hours ago.”

*** *** ***

Hermione wasn’t sure how long she sat silently against the mighty oak tree. She pondered how interesting it was that the ancient trunk provided her with such calm. The Forest scared her when she was young … now she felt as though the old trees pulsed with wisdom from ages past.

This tree against her back could be a thousand years old. Her power was supposed to connect to the elements; perhaps if she stayed isolated long enough, she could learn to understand them … she absently noted that the air around her was cold but the rough bark against her back was oddly warm.

It was odd, she reflected, that her mind usually begged for knowledge, but learning more about the Mage and the elemental magic still terrified her–

_Crunch._

Hermione looked sharply to the right, and she instinctively dug in her pocket for her wand, forgetting it was missing. She released a slow breath and rose to her feet, palms pressed back against the ancient tree as though it could provide her with bravery through contact. Her old fears of werewolves or manticores hiding in the dense woods tickled the back of her mind. The first time she entered the Forest, Harry had been nearly run down by Voldemort–

 _Crunch_. It was louder.

She strained her eyes against the blanket of dark around her – _How long have I been out here?_ – and a pair of shining eyes suddenly met hers.

She tightened her grip against the rough bark of the tree and choked back the urge to scream. Dried leaves around her feet suddenly swirled as though a gust of wind picked them up. Another pair of eyes flashed in a gap of trees, then another. The leaves spun faster.

_Are those HUMAN eyes?_

Three centaurs slowly approached from the shadows, their eyes emitting a pale glow in the otherwise ebony-black of night as though they carried starlight in their irises. They held longbows in their strong hands and quivers of arrows were draped across their backs. Hermione shrunk backward into her tree, realizing with a pang that she most likely crossed into their territory.

“I’m sorry …” she said carefully. “I was just … I can leave.”

More crunching behind her told her she was surrounded.

*** *** ***

Blaise pulled his hair in frustration as he watched Theo pace up and down the tree line, fruitlessly trying to find a break in the enchantment. Harry found Hermione’s bag thrown against the castle wall not far from where the unconscious students had been found. Ron threw stones and branches across the perimeter, watching them create shimmery disturbances like ripples on a lake. Blaise had already tried and failed to push past; the shocks that ran through his limbs were finally starting to fade.

Harry asked Hagrid every question he could think of. The remainder of the unconscious students were levitated inside, and the five of them were alone on the lawn in the growing darkness. “We need to go after her–”

“Harry, it’s _too risky_ ,” Hagrid tried to convince Harry for the sixth time. “I dunno how far she coulda got … would take weeks fer me ter search the whole Forest meself an’ I can’ be sure it were her, anyhow–”

“We can _feel_ it, Hagrid, she’s not at Hogwarts–”

“How could she get past these things?!” Ron yelled angrily as he threw another stone.

“Hermione’s more powerful than we know yet,” Theo tried to stay the calm voice of reason, but his crossed arms were shaking.

Blaise kicked his foot against a large stone. “How’re we supposed to protect her when we can’t _find_ her?!”

“What if she _didn’t_ go into the Forest?” Harry ventured desperately. “What if she left the grounds another way–?”

“She can’t Apparate out, and she couldn’t have Flooed out; McGonagall would’ve had to let her,” Theo contemplated under his breath. “The front gates are shut, and they’re the only way out of the grounds without breaching the enchantments … I don’t know if she could open and close the gate–”

“We should ask McGonagall,” Blaise managed. “Ask her if it’s possible that the gates opened and someone got in, or went through the Floo …”

“If she knows Hermione’s missing, she’ll tell the other teachers,” Ron argued. “We’ll have to tell them how we know she’s not in the castle–”

“He’s right, it’s risky–”

“It’s worth the risk if it’ll help us _find_ her!”

The argument was cut off when Ginny flew down the lawn. “Where in the bloody hell have you lot been?” she hissed at the wizards. “I’ve been searching for ages–”

“Ginny, I’m sorry,” Harry pulled her into a hug quickly.

“Why on earth are you all out here? It’s freezing …”

They all answered at once. “Hermione’s missing–” “–past the enchantment somehow …” “Hagrid saw her in the woods–”

Ginny stared. “Even if Hermione was powerful enough to get out of the grounds, why would she run?”

*** *** ***

Hermione wished she could simply disappear into the massive oak. At least seven armed centaurs circled her. She remembered perfectly what centaurs thought of humans, and she couldn’t fathom a single excuse to justify her presence in their home. Dead leaves continued to swirl in spirals around her feet. As much as the centaurs could possibly hurt her, she realized there was an equal chance she might unintentionally hurt _them_. What if she started a war with the herd?

Of all the possible scenarios she conjured, she never imagined each centaur would simultaneously bend onto an equine knee and lower their heads in reverence. _Is this tree sacred or something? Should I move?_

A stray gust of warm wind blew gently across her face. _It’s February_ … the wind shouldn’t be warm …

What seemed to be the tallest and darkest centaur raised his head and took a single step closer. She felt her rapid heartbeat slow a tiny bit when the centaur slowly draped his bow across his back and held out both empty hands in a nonverbal gesture of peace.

“Sorceress,” the dark centaur murmured in a deep voice. “We did not expect you so soon.”

*** *** ***

Theo disliked emotion at a foundational level; it distracted from logic and common sense. Though he knew logically he was a more powerful wizard than his father – probably from the age of fourteen – it could not ease his terror of the man thanks to a lifetime of fear drilled into his very soul. Emotions were only confusing and irrational; logic allowed Theo to maintain balance and structure. Logic kept him safe.

But logic couldn’t help him now. He knew she was out there, and he couldn’t follow. Logic dictated he must wait for her to return. But he couldn’t _logic_ away the horrible twisting feeling in his stomach, as though her absence had displaced one of his vital organs. Logic couldn’t cease the constant loop of words in his mind: _She ran away … she’s scared … it’s February, and she’s lost in the woods … I can’t do anything._ There was no reference book that would tell him what to do.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt so helpless in his life.

*** *** ***

Hermione’s panic only partially dissipated. The swirling leaves slowly settled at her feet, and the displaced warm wind brushing her cheek was oddly comforting. The centaurs rose from their bent knees and kept their weapons at their sides. “Draco has spoken about you through Eltanin,” the first centaur said, as if this explained everything.

“I … _Draco_ spoke to you?” Hermione managed, baffled. The centaurs simultaneously tilted their heads to gaze skyward; between the dense trees Hermione just managed to make out the points of the Draco constellation above.

 _Oh._ She’d forgotten centaurs’ deep obsession with astrological divination. She slowly took a breath, wondering how to proceed without offending them.

“Eltanin desires to speak with you. Will you permit it, Sorceress?”

_A star wants to talk to me._

“Sure … OK.” Hermione didn’t dare argue as she reluctantly abandoned her sturdy tree. The tall centaur dropped to all four knees before her and lowered his head. This suggestion defied all logic, but Hermione seemed to have little choice as he gently took her hand and guided her onto his broad back. She gripped his slate-grey shoulders as he stood.

The centaurs cantered through the trees swiftly; though they turned often, Hermione felt they ran mostly north. Branches flew past and she ducked her head trying desperately not to look down. The centaur she was astride was at least sixteen hands tall but surprisingly agile for being so large. As he and his comrades tore through the trees, they hardly seemed to disturb the foliage around them even where the Forest was particularly dense. The air was chilly, but heat seemed to radiate from the centaur’s galloping body keeping Hermione’s legs and hands warm.

Gradually their pace slowed. Hermione looked over the tall shoulder in front of her as they entered a wide clearing dotted with boulders spaced into a nearly perfect circle. She glanced around in wonder. The foliage growing around the stones suggested they’d been there for a long time. They didn’t seem to have been dragged or moved into position, but simply dropped from the sky in a perfect formation. Though varying sizes, the stones were mostly flat; more centaurs were standing or lying on them as they studied the heavens. The centaur she was astride reached for her hands and helped her to the ground.

The group that brought Hermione began leading her through the clearing, maintaining a careful circle around her. She wondered if this was to keep the others away, or to keep her in. Luminous eyes watched her carefully as she focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Her wand’s absence had never been so noticeable, and she anxiously picked at a callous on her palm. She reminded herself firmly that if she survived Voldemort’s war, she could survive a group of unpredictable centaurs. _Even though they have very pointy arrows._

She was being herded toward the center of the clearing where the moonlight was strong and a pale centaur awaited, flanked by several others. Hermione had to hold back a gasp; the pale centaur was female.

For the little she heard of centaur lore, Hermione knew they guarded their females fiercely. Almost no humans had seen a female centaur in the last century; their locations were carefully protected even from other centaur herds, and males would fight to the death to defend them. She doubted even Hagrid, for all his knowledge of the vast Forest, had ever seen a female centaur.

As they approached, the centaurs in Hermione’s protective circle all sank into deep bows before the stunning female. Her minimal research certainly never suggested the correct human protocol for greeting a female centaur, but Hermione decided if there was a time to show humility, it was now.

Hermione crossed her hands in front of her, allowed her knees to bend, and lowered her gaze respectively, mimicking the centaurs around her. She felt a warm hand under her chin and looked up in surprise. The female centaur had approached soundlessly and was gazing deeply into Hermione’s confused brown eyes with unblinking silver ones.

“Respect is due by you to no one,” the centaur said softly. “Permit me, Sorceress, to consult your spirit?” Hermione was dazzled by the piercing eyes and slowly nodded her head. She’d been afraid upon entering the clearing but oddly felt no fear now. The centaur released her chin and bowed her own head, closing her eyes. The dark grey centaur Hermione had ridden rose and stood by the elegant female.

“This is Eltanin,” he said reverently. “She has read the stars for seven decades.”

Centaurs must age differently from humans if the lovely Eltanin was over seventy years old. Her skin and hide were ivory-white, and her long, braided hair and tail were ice-blue and shimmering in the moonlight. She wasn’t tall compared to the males, only a head or two taller than Hermione herself, but she was regal. Her patient face was simultaneously unlined and ancient. Her skin was smooth as porcelain to the base of her breasts, where the skin gently shifted into soft horsehair. She opened her eyes to gaze into Hermione’s once again, and Hermione felt as though she was staring into the all-seeing stars of Draco itself.

“Darkness knows you,” Eltanin spoke quietly but the very power of her voice could be heard through the massive clearing and there was no other sound but the tiny breeze disturbing the grass. Hermione sensed all the other centaurs in the clearing listening attentively, all gazes removed from the sky and redirected at Eltanin. “It has sought to keep you alone. I feel you have fought against it for many years, unknowingly.” _Is it the Shadow from the Mage legend?_

“Your unparalleled energy is at a crucial apex,” Eltanin continued. Hermione felt as though her body were being x-rayed by those starlit eyes. “You can now become as Draco designed you, or you can falter to Darkness and all will be lost.”

“What must I do?” Hermione asked, not entirely sure if her tiny voice made a difference. Rationally she should question how this centaur knew these things but somehow, she didn’t need to.

“You are destined to be tied, but the ties are not yet complete. Your soul reaches out desperately, longing to fulfill the connection.” Eltanin extended both hands and cupped Hermione’s cheeks. Hermione felt a mildly familiar flaring of energy in her core responding to the warm touch, but it did not flare in violence.

“Your soul speaks to you …” the female’s brow furrowed in sudden worry. “But you have not yet learned to listen. There is a concern … a reluctance in your mind, put there by Darkness itself. You must overcome this block and accept yourself.”

“I know there’s something different,” Hermione admitted. “I don’t understand this; it frightens me …”

“Fear is expected of any intelligent being,” Eltanin reassured her. “Fear is natural. But _control_ … it must be learned. When you learn, you will know. When you know, you must return.”

“Return here?” Hermione asked, bewildered. “I’m not sure how I got here …”

“You have already been given the path you need. When your spirit is prepared to become whole, you will know.”

Hermione wanted to ask more questions – so many questions – but Eltanin slowly turned, and the other centaurs shifted and bowed creating a path of retreat. Hermione was stunned into silence as she watched the elegant centaur disappear into the shadows beyond the clearing.

*** *** ***

Ron paced the edge of the enchantments ignoring the chill in his hands and feet as he tried yet again to stretch his mind towards Hermione. It was an odd sensation; he wasn’t used to wondering where she was. The last time he couldn’t be completely sure of her location was when he’d been forced to abandon her at Malfoy Manor. This nearly terrified him to the same level, and he felt only worse when Ginny discovered Hermione’s wand abandoned on the lawn.

Yet somehow … he still _felt_ her. He knew instinctively she was unhurt. Still, having her so far away made him twitchier than his Potions OWL. For all he knew, Hermione passed through the enchantments and into another dimension, and being unable to follow her made him ache.

Theo sat on the grass, motionless but for his restless eyes tearing through the alchemist’s text for a desperate chance at answers. Blaise tore apart small twigs and branches on the ground in his frustration and Hagrid desperately tried to convince them all to come into his hut to get warm while Harry shook his head, not removing his eyes from the treeline. Hagrid had even tried to help them across the perimeter, but they gave up after Ron got yet another unpleasant shock despite gripping Hagrid’s coat.

Harry’s sudden shout made all of them jerk to attention. Theo scrambled to his feet and turned to the spot Harry had been watching for the last hour. A shadowy figure could be seen through the trees in the near darkness. A figure with very bushy hair.

Hagrid’s massive feet tore across the grass and into the trees. He scooped Hermione into his arms and, ignoring the cries of the others, made straight for his hut to get her out of the cold.

Blaise was in the lead as the group burst through Hagrid’s door, all talking over each other in earnest. Hagrid gently set Hermione down by the fire and snatched the heavy quilt off his bed to wrap around her. Harry quickly cast a Warming Charm and Blaise picked up the very pale girl and secured her on his lap, quilt and all. Ron bolted the door and scrambled to help Hagrid make tea while Ginny sat anxiously across the table. Theo and Harry switched between rubbing Hermione’s icy fingers and moving her hair to examine the scrapes from tree branches across her neck and colourless cheeks.

“I’m alright …” Hermione managed. She didn’t want to return, but the centaurs brought her back and she couldn’t run again. She didn’t realize her feet were too numb to walk. Hagrid’s large fire began to thaw her extremities and Blaise’s strong arms around her were helping, even though he was cold too. She barely felt the worried boys’ hands on her numb fingers.

Ron forced a massive mug of tea into her hands and started demanding answers. Harry and Theo tried to ask questions of their own as they carefully pulled leaves and twigs from her hair. It took several sparks from Ginny’s wand to make the wizards shut up long enough for Hermione to start speaking.

“I didn’t know I could get across … I just started running and I– I couldn’t stop.”

“Why were you running?” Harry crouched in front of her, shaking with desperation and cold. “A bunch of students got attacked by something today, were you hurt–?” The tears in Hermione’s eyes made him freeze.

“It was me …” Hermione sobbed. “ _I_ attacked them!”

*** *** ***

_The Transfiguration assignment was annoying her, and she found herself craving fresh air. She decided to watch Harry and Ginny’s Quidditch practice while she revised, so she headed out towards the pitch. There was a surprising number of students outside on such a windy February day. She paused on the lawn, wondering if she should go back inside for her warmer cloak._

_Students began walking towards her in groups of two or three, but she didn’t take notice until two tall boys stopped right in front of her. She looked round in confusion and realized about twenty students were coming at her from every direction. The students were from all years and houses but wore identical stone-faced expressions._

_When she tried to move around one of the Ravenclaws in front of her – Trevor – he extended a firm arm and blocked her. The other boy snatched her bag from her arm and threw it aside. Were they messing with her for some reason?_

_Hermione instinctively drew her wand, though she didn’t want to use it. “What do you want?” she demanded of the oncoming students. Her gaze darted quickly between their faces and suddenly she realized they looked …_ wrong _. As though they had all taken poppy tears, each student’s eyes were completely dilated. Their colourful irises were gone; the eyes glaring at her from all directions resembled cold black tunnels._

 _Hermione spun in a desperate circle as the emotionless students formed an impenetrable wall around her. One boy, a pale Slytherin she didn’t know, stepped forward with a sneer._ “You’re too late, little witch.”

_Hermione quickly cast a jinx at him, but the boy blocked it and she felt her wand ripped from her grasp by another student who slipped up behind her. A horrible feeling crept up her spine as everyone crowded closer and she became overwhelmed with claustrophobia._

_“No … I don’t want to hurt you …” Hermione gasped as she felt something heat in her core. Eight or nine hands held her arms rigidly while the Slytherin approaching her extracted a pocketknife from deep inside his robes. “Please …” Hermione begged as the tall boy sneered and raised the knife. He was saying something, but she couldn’t hear it. There was a rushing in her ears as though she stood beside a tidal wave crashing on the shore._

_Her core flooded with heat, and with no warning her magic exploded. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden flash of light that enveloped her in a protective shield … the hands holding her were torn away … cries of confusion and pain echoed in her ears …_

_She was terrified to open her eyes. When she did, she screamed in horror._

*** *** ***


	18. Of Flames and Flashbacks

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 18: Of Flames and Flashbacks**

When Hermione finished speaking, she buried her face in her hands. The crackling fire was the only sound in Hagrid’s hut.

She didn’t dare face them. She waited for them to shout, to berate her, to run for the Headmistress. She’d had every intention of remaining in the Forest where it was safe, but the dark grey centaur didn’t let her down until they were a matter of feet from the treeline and only vanished into the trees when Hagrid appeared.

Though shame and fear of hurting someone else kept her away, she mostly ran so she wouldn’t face their disappointment in her. Her magic was _terrifying_ , and any wizard in their right mind should keep their distance if not lock her up. Loyalty didn’t matter when your best friend was turning into a monster that attacked innocent students–

Hermione felt a warm hand on her chin trying to tilt her head up. Bravely, she raised her tear-stained cheeks and met her brother’s green eyes, which were filled with worry, love, and understanding.

 _No, Harry. Stop it. I don’t deserve that._ She looked away in shame and made up her mind.

She couldn’t go back to the Forest; next time they might come after her. It was time to go to McGonagall and confess as she should’ve done weeks ago. She hoped the Headmistress would take her straight to Azkaban before her magic spun out of control again.

Hermione started to slide off Blaise’s lap, but he held her firmly in place. “Where d’you think you’re going?” he murmured in her ear. She glanced at Ron and Theo whose expressions matched Harry’s.

_Oh no … they think they need to protect me because of that stupid bond!_

“Ginny,” Hermione choked desperately. “Ginny, you need to go tell them–”

Ginny’s brow furrowed. “Tell who, what?”

“McGonagall … she– she needs to know …”

Ginny shook her head fiercely. “We already decided we can’t tell her anything! She’s obligated to share what she knows with the other teachers and we don’t want them finding out about this. It’s not safe for you.” Ron nodded furiously.

“Safe … for me? I _attacked_ students!” Hermione cried. “I threw them against the walls! They hit their heads … there was _blood_ –”

“Hermione,” Theo’s voice was steady as always. “Nobody was badly hurt, and it sounds like those students weren’t in their right minds. You said they all had black eyes … we know something was wrong.”

Harry jumped in. “Neville was helping them round up the students, and a bunch of them said they only remembered being at dinner and then waking up outside! Hermione, they were cursed or something, I swear, you didn’t just randomly attack students.”

“You were defending yourself,” Ginny agreed. “You didn’t mean to–”

“You’re right!” Hermione cried. “I didn’t _mean_ to hurt them, the stupid Mage … ruddy magic _power_ acted by itself and– and it threw them all away … I couldn’t control it!” she choked and hid her face again.

The wizards were speechless, so the Mage’s faithful handmaiden quickly took control. She abandoned her seat and elbowed her boyfriend out of the way to take his place in front of Hermione.

“Stop that RIGHT NOW,” the redhead said fiercely as she pulled Hermione’s hands from her face. “Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself! Something happened, and we’ll figure out what it was, but it _wasn’t your fault_. We know you’d never deliberately attack students, and that’s _exactly_ what McGonagall would say, too!”

“Nobody’s gonna believe our Hermione’s capable o’ somethin’ like that,” Hagrid’s booming voice agreed from the back of the room. “Yeh’ll stick with yer Guardians here and nuthin’s gonna happen again, righ’?” Hermione took several breaths as she stared into Ginny’s intense brown eyes.

“Hermione, if anything, it’s our fault …” Theo murmured. “We should’ve kept a closer watch.” Hermione stared at him, and she felt Blaise’s arms tighten around her a little.

“What’re you on about?” Hermione whispered desperately at their guilty faces.

“There’ve been articles in the _Prophet_ for ages,” Blaise admitted gruffly. “The Ministry’s looking for– for someone. A powerful witch.”

“We already knew that–”

“They’re looking for her because they believe she could save the world _or_ destroy it, because her power’s dangerous,” Harry said quietly.

“I _am_ dangerous!” Hermione persisted. “In Charms, when Pansy–” Theo and Blaise chuckled suddenly.

“Pansy deserved that, sweetheart,” Blaise said through a smirk. “She needed to be taken down a few notches.”

“That’s not the point! I didn’t mean to do it, and then with Anthony–”

“Hermione, how do you feel when we’re with you?” Theo asked softly.

Hermione quickly looked away; Theo’s blue eyes were nearly as hypnotizing as Eltanin’s. “I– it doesn’t matter! When I was alone out there it was safer because I couldn’t hurt anybody–”

“That’s not what Theo asked,” Harry insisted. “How’d you _feel?_ Did you feel better, being out there alone?” Hermione knew it was no use. Harry could always tell when she was lying.

“It was awful,” she admitted finally. “Any time one of you isn’t with me I feel like I’m missing something crucial. Like my left foot, or my wand …”

“Oh, that reminds me–” Ginny pulled out Hermione’s wand and handed it over.

“See, Hagrid was right, you need to stay with us!” Ron insisted. Hermione remained quiet, holding her cup of now cool tea very tightly. _They don’t get it._

Blaise must have felt her grow tense; he frowned. “If you’re worried about doing something dangerous, you need to let us help you control it. That’s why we’re _here_. You’re not supposed to be in this alone.”

Harry reached for her hands again. “That’s right; we’re gonna fix this.”

“You know what needs to happen,” Theo said quietly. “You need to complete the bonds.”

_Your soul reaches out desperately, longing to fulfill the connection._

“One person is still missing,” Ginny said softly. “She needs to find Alitis.”

*** *** ***

“OK wise ol’ owl, start talking,” Ginny demanded the moment they returned to their favourite common room. They were fortunate to avoid prefects on their way upstairs; nobody but Hagrid knew Ginny was breaking curfew.

“Theo knows _more?_ ” Ron groaned. “I seriously never thought we’d have another Hermione.” The girl in question poked him in the ribs as she dropped to the sofa beside Harry.

“Theo knows who Alitis is,” Ginny said firmly. “And I think Hermione does too, but we know she’s too stubborn to admit it.” Theo wore a perfectly innocent expression and Hermione suddenly wished she were camouflaged against the blue sofa.

“I’ve touched hands with practically everybody–”

“Well, you’re missing one.” replied Ginny. “Ready to come clean? Or should Theo tell us? Or y’know what, I bet I know–”

Hermione internally groaned. “This– this is ridiculous …” she mumbled.

“What’s ridiculous is you and your secrets, Hermione. I know you figured out who sent the Link charm,” Ginny said exasperatedly.

“It was anonymous–”

“And I saw another one on your night table, so I know you got another and didn’t tell us–”

“People still send Link charms?” Blaise asked. “My third stepfather sent one to my mother, and she teased him because it was so outdated.” Ron raised an eyebrow at him, and Blaise chuckled. “Relax, it wasn’t me. But … _oh!_ ” Blaise exchanged a grin with Ginny and Theo simply smiled along. Ron looked at them crossly.

“Of course she figured it out,” Blaise mused. “You’d make a decent Slytherin, Ginger.” Ginny beamed.

Hermione started shaking and Harry seized her by the arm quickly. “You better not be ready to run off again,” he said sternly. “You know how important this is–”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “He won’t … Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Happen with _who?_ ” Ron demanded loudly. “I know you ruled out the Gryffindors, so please tell me you’re not gonna bond with Smith, ‘cause he’s just about the worst–”

“Nope,” Ginny cut him off. “Not him.”

“Well then, who’s left? Finch-Fletchley, Boot … Thank Merlin Goyle isn’t here anymore–”

Ron was cut off by a sudden wave of heat. The fireplace exploded outward as massive flames threatened to envelop the entire room. Ron leapt backwards and dragged Ginny with him, tilting their sofa in the process to shield them; Harry pulled Hermione against the opposite wall just as Blaise leapt in front of her; Theo jumped to his feet and performed a Shield Charm to contain the flames.

The Weasleys were closest to the fireplace; they shielded their eyes against the heat and cast _Aguamenti_ repeatedly, but the fire was barely affected. Theo tried to help but the flames kept growing. He was forced to retreat into the corner.

Hermione tried not to burst into tears. Making leaves spin around her feet was one thing … she extended her hand and tried to force the flames to shrink and return to the fireplace. She struggled, but her efforts slowly worked. Harry quickly added a Shield Charm to Theo’s and the two helped Hermione contain the flames.

Harry murmured encouragements to Hermione until the flames shrunk to their normal size. Ron carefully righted the sofas and checked Ginny; the Weasleys had singed sleeves but were unharmed. Theo was coughing slightly from inhaling smoke. The wizards exchanged glances but wordlessly agreed not to say anything.

Harry and Ron began to mend the burnt rug and table in front of the fireplace. Hermione landed on the sofa in a curled ball and buried her face in her arms. She wanted to run from the room, but they’d surely stop her. Ginny shooed Blaise away and dropped down next to her friend. “It’s alright, Hermione,” she said quietly. “It’ll be OK, I promise.” Hermione sniffled and shook her head.

Blaise looked confused. “She didn’t want it to be him?”

“I really didn’t think she’d mind,” the redhead answered slowly. “He’s not so bad anymore, he’s just been keeping his distance–”

“OK, enough secrets,” Ron said loudly, having cleared the last scorch mark. “I’m confused; I said good thing Goyle isn’t here anymore, and then she …” Ron’s voice trailed off and he exchanged a look with Harry, who seemed to understand in the same moment. “No,” Ron whispered. “Merlin, _no_.”

All eyes were on Hermione as Ginny rubbed her arm encouragingly. Finally, the exhausted Mage raised her head and looked directly at Ron.

“Yes,” she whispered.

In three steps Ron was out the door, slamming it behind him.

*** *** ***

Harry was also surprised but not as angry at the revelation. Blaise and Theo consented to let Hermione and Harry go after Ron and they offered to escort Ginny back to Gryffindor in the meantime.

After today her power terrified Hermione more than ever; it felt like a steadily growing time-bomb ticking away to some horrific unknown end. Harry held his wand at the ready to keep her at ease while she reluctantly focused on her internal string connecting to Ron. She led Harry to a corridor on the sixth floor, concerned the entire way about accidently burning the castle down.

Ron was pacing the corridor frantically, clutching his hair. “Hermione, I– I can’t. I can’t do this.”

“Ron–” she started desperately.

“No, Theo’s a good bloke and Zabini’s not so bad anymore, but _Malfoy?!_ He spent _years_ making our lives hell, Hermione!” Ron began kicking the stone wall. “He called you _Mudblood_ a hundred times, he insulted my family, he cursed us, he _poisoned_ me, he let Death Eaters into the school–!”

“He saved my life, Ron–” Hermione began.

“That doesn’t change what he did, Hermione!” Ron shouted. “I’m glad he saved you, and I can tolerate being in school with him, even playing Quidditch, and I know he didn’t deserve to go to Azkaban, but …”

“But?” Harry prompted.

Ron wouldn’t look at them. “But you deserve better than _him,_ ” he choked.

Hermione ran to Ron and threw her arms around his waist. He held her tightly and she felt his heart racing against her cheek. Harry leaned on the wall behind her and she knew he and Ron were communicating silently over her head.

“I know right now you want to keep everybody away to keep me safe,” she said softly after a moment. “But you trusted Theo and Blaise, and I believe you can trust Draco too, if it’s him.”

She felt him shake his head. “Not … Malfoy …” he murmured into her hair. “… why does it have to be _Malfoy?_ ” She knew, deep inside, part of Ron still wished it had been _him_. But she also knew he wouldn’t give up being her Guardian for anything. She pulled back a bit and glanced at Harry.

“I don’t love the idea either,” Harry said slowly. “But it doesn’t take a genius to realize he’s not the same anymore. Yeah, he _was_ an evil prick, but we wouldn’t’ve won the war without him, Ron.”

Ron was quiet.

Hermione bit her lip and came to a decision. “I … I think there’s something you both should see.”

*** *** ***

The girls were sequestered on Hermione’s bed with _Muffliato_ charms in place.

“Ron’s still upset but I’m going to have a long talk with him and Harry tomorrow morning.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ginny asked softly.

Hermione heard the hurt in Ginny’s voice and kept her eyes firmly on her lap. “I was worried everyone would act like Ron. I know what people think of Malfoy, but none of you saw him change like I did–”

“Exactly,” Ginny said defiantly. “We don’t know him like you do. But you could’ve given us a chance to _try_.”

Hermione sniffed. “It’s also … he’s acting so strangely this year. I’d hoped to be friends with him, like Blaise, but Draco just doesn’t want me around at all. He ignores me, but then he sends me these charms … he _hates_ Blaise for spending time with us, I saw them get into an awful row about it … it just doesn’t add up.”

“Sounds like a jealous teenager in love,” said Ginny dryly. “Remember, I grew up with six older brothers, and they all went through mental phases like that. Percy complained how annoying Penelope Clearwater was before he got the guts to ask her out, Fred and George teased Angelina Johnson endlessly, and you know how dumb Ron was with the whole Lavender thing …”

“I remember. But _Malfoy_ …”

“I know you want to understand everything,” Ginny said with a sigh. “But Theo and Blaise know him. You know blokes don’t talk about their feelings, but I bet if Malfoy likes you, they knew about it already.” Hermione bit her lip.

“Anyway,” Ginny added. “All you need to do is touch Malfoy’s hand and if it’s not right, you won’t feel anything. If he _is_ the one, then he’ll feel the bond and he’s gonna be as crazy about you as the rest of the boys.” Hermione chortled despite herself and Ginny grinned.

“Alright,” the brunette sighed. “I guess I’ll find an excuse to touch him.”

“You could always let him hold you captive again,” Ginny said slyly, which earned her a pillow to the head.

*** *** ***

Hermione asked Harry and Ron to meet her early – earlier than Ron would like on a Saturday, but he came anyway. She gripped something tightly in her left pocket as she led them through the quiet corridors to the Headmistress’ office. Hermione asked the gargoyle if Professor McGonagall would accept an impromptu visit.

A moment later the stairway took them up. Hermione spent several minutes reassuring Professor McGonagall that nothing was wrong. “I wonder, Professor, if I might borrow the school Pensieve?”

Ron looked confused, Harry’s eyes went wide, and Professor McGonagall seemed quite relieved. “Of course, Miss Granger, goodness knows I owe you several favours. But I will need to supervise–”

“Of course.”

When they stood before the shimmering bowl, Professor McGonagall helped Hermione carefully remove her memories and then returned to her desk where she could keep them in her line of sight.

“Are you showing us something about Malfoy?” Ron asked under his breath.

“I’m showing you _everything_ about Malfoy,” Hermione answered.

*** *** ***

Theo and Blaise slipped out of the Slytherin dungeon early to return to their usual common room. It was the second night Draco hadn’t returned to the dormitory and Blaise was getting concerned. He hated not talking to his best friend and hoped he could finally explain things today. Ginny sat on a sofa by the fire. The boys joined her, and she filled them in on her conversation with Hermione the previous night.

“Malfoy _was_ kinda horrible to you lot,” Blaise admitted. “But he’s not the same bloke anymore.” Ginny nodded in agreement.

“I’m glad you see it,” Theo said to her softly. “He’s been trying very hard to change.”

“Hermione knows,” Blaise said, yawning. “She spent loads of time with him last spring.”

Ginny pulled the _Mage Elementum_ from her pocket. “D’you really think he fits, though? It sounded to me like Alitis is supposed to be really affectionate and loving, and that just doesn’t strike me as _Malfoy_.” The Slytherins chuckled.

“Draco doesn’t show his affection easily, but it’s in there,” Blaise assured her. “He’s never had much of a chance to show it, I reckon. His father isn’t exactly the hugging type and he’s never had a proper girlfriend. He hung onto Parkinson for a year, but he didn’t really _like_ her, you know?”

“Hermione’s never been with anyone either,” Ginny considered. “She and Krum were better suited as friends, and I thought she’d try dating Ron, but they agreed not to–”

“Maybe that’s good, since Weasley makes her anxious enough to set a room on fire,” Blaise joked. Theo narrowed his eyes into the fireplace.

“That was a little frightening,” Theo murmured. “She’s had issues with her magic reacting more strongly than it should, but she wasn’t even trying to perform magic when the flames grew.”

“Was she really that stressed about Draco?” Blaise asked tentatively. “I thought she was OK with him.”

“She is,” Ginny replied carefully. “She was afraid Harry and Ron would lose it because of their history, and she doesn’t think he likes _her_ ‘cause he’s been avoiding her all year.”

“He’s avoiding her _because_ he likes her,” Theo replied with a slight grin. “It scares him because he doesn’t think she wants _him_.” Ginny groaned in reply and tugged on her long hair.

“ _Idiots_ ,” she grumbled.

*** *** ***

Neither Ron nor Hermione had used a Pensieve before, so Harry guided them into the basin after Hermione carefully deposited her memories. They landed in a well-furnished bedroom of royal blue and mahogany.

Hermione nodded toward the door as it opened. Malfoy entered, carrying the pale, dishevelled, bleeding Hermione in his arms. Harry let out a small noise at the sight of her; he forgot the state she’d been in that day. Hermione watched Malfoy carry her past self into his bathroom and help her clean up. Ron stared in amazement, especially after Malfoy caught her from falling off the countertop.

They watched Malfoy fake-yell, give her potions and food, and discuss the terms of their truce. Ron bit his lip and paid close attention, then shouted aloud when Malfoy tied Hermione up as his father stormed in. Hermione felt a twisting in her stomach as she watched Lucius threaten his son.

Harry felt a strong connection between the Malfoy he was watching and the Malfoy he saw two years ago on the Astronomy Tower. Past Hermione obviously struggled with the odd situation, and Harry could only imagine what was going through her brilliant mind.

_“Trust me yet, Granger?”_

_“Not completely, but I’m rather convinced neither of us has a choice here.”_

By the time Malfoy sent Hermione off to his bed, Ron had sunk to the floor in utter disbelief. “It’s like it’s not even Malfoy,” he muttered under his breath. Harry just nodded. This wasn’t the first time his opinion of someone was altered within a Pensieve.

The memory shifted. Hermione and Malfoy were standing several feet apart in a shouting match. Harry and Ron almost snickered since this was much more rational behaviour for the two.

_“You have no CLUE what kind of pain I’m in, Malfoy, especially after yesterday–”_

_“ENOUGH!”_

He was on his feet, ranting at Hermione about the pain he’d suffered, while steadily backing her up against the window. Both past and present Hermione had very watery eyes. Ron’s face was frozen in shock while Malfoy seethed about the torture, the things he’d been forced to see and do, and then he tore his shirt open–

_“–this wasn’t in my head. This was a bloody real curse that TORE MY CHEST APART!”_

Hermione grabbed for Harry’s hand as he went chalk-white, staring at Malfoy’s scarred body. Her own tears streamed down her face as she watched her younger self fall to her knees in anguish. She squeezed Harry’s hand tightly. She hadn’t wanted him to know, but the truth was better than blissful ignorance. He slowly squeezed back, and she knew he understood.

The memory shifted again. Ron watched suspiciously as the trapped couple attempted to talk, but eventually the old Malfoy rose to the surface and started taunting her, causing her to lash out at him in Ron’s defense.

_“–he secretly believes as long as his family and Harry and I make it through this war he doesn’t need to, and I HATE him for that!”_

Ron stared at the Hermione before him, then the Hermione next to him. The latter was looking down sadly, and he could only swallow. She was correct, but he never said it aloud. On Hermione’s other side Harry glared at him and Ron looked down bashfully.

_“Potter’s the Chosen One and you’re the know-it-all that solves all his problems, so what’s the Weasel good for, anyway? Bait?”_

_SLAP._

Another time, the boys would’ve praised Hermione for slapping Malfoy, but they were both so shocked that she’d just risked her own safety. “He didn’t hit you back?” Ron whispered. Hermione shook her head.

“He didn’t even yell again,” she replied softly. Over her head, the boys exchanged a look.

The memory changed as the unlikely couple started talking again. The first time they nearly made each other laugh, Hermione saw Ron almost crack a smile himself. “He didn’t change overnight,” she said to him quietly. “He was still a git sometimes, but this was the first time I believed he had another side.”

The memories kept moving. Harry and Ron enjoyed the stepping game; they laughed with Hermione, and Harry realized with astonishment that Malfoy began teasing her the same way he and Ron often did.

_“I think you were acting like such a prat to the younger students in fifth year because your father expected you to use your prefect badge to make people afraid of you.” Hermione said on her guess. Draco took a step backwards, causing her to furrow her brow in confusion._

_The blond stared at his socks. “I didn’t want to be a prefect. They were gonna choose Theo Nott, and my father threatened the Minister directly to make sure Dumbledore’s decision got overturned.”_

_“I take it your father made a lot of threats that year,” she replied softly._

_He nodded slowly. “When he found out what the Ministry was doing with Umbridge, he made sure I knew that she was the new authority figure at the school, and I must do exactly what she wanted. I really didn’t like that witch. But I didn’t have a choice, because she hated Potter so much, and–”_

_“And you had to hate Harry?” Hermione finished. Draco paused, biting his lips._

_“I was supposed to be Potter’s equal,” he admitted. “But it was pretty clear Potter didn’t want me on his side, so I had to … to stay on the other side.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly but his posture was stiff._

_Even though she’d been winning, she abandoned her place in the stepping game and went to him, placing her hand on his arm gently. “You don’t have to stay on the other side anymore.”_

He wasn’t sure how Ron felt, but Harry believed their search for Alitis was over.

*** *** **

_“… it’s too late!” Lucius thundered._

_“Father, I can get more out of her–”_

_“She goes to the Dark Lord. Now!”_

Ron was shuffling his feet in anxiety and confusion. He knew, of course, that Hermione hadn’t been taken to Voldemort, but how did she get out of this? He gaped in disbelief when Malfoy started lying through his teeth to his father, and he only started breathing again after Lucius finally left them and slammed the door.

They were shouting. The argument drew Draco and Hermione closer and closer … and then they were kissing.

Harry made a strange noise. Hermione thought Ron would be furious, but he simply looked confused for a moment, and then against all reason he stepped closer. Hermione was about to remind Ron that this was a _memory_ , so he couldn’t exactly stop them, but she paused at the look on Ron’s face. The look of astonishment wasn’t directed at her past self, but at Malfoy.

In the memory they closed their eyes while they kissed, but Draco’s eyes opened first. Hermione kept hers closed for a moment as she tried to catch her breath. She didn’t realize Draco used this moment to look at her uninhibited.

Ron remembered the look Bill and Fleur gave each other on their wedding day. It was just like the way his family stared at their Gringotts vault at Christmas, and the way Sirius had looked at Harry when Harry wasn’t paying attention. There was a picture of Molly looking at Ginny the day she was born, and the unmistakable gaze was the same look Draco Malfoy gave to the girl in his arms.

He was looking at the most precious treasure he could imagine.

Ron took a step back to his friends. “How do we get out?” he asked Harry. Harry glanced at Hermione.

“I was going to show you more,” she began. Ron shook his head.

“I don’t need to see any more.” Harry pulled them from the memory and their feet connected with the floor in the Headmistress’s office.

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione managed a smile at the Headmistress as they replaced the Pensieve. Back down the staircase, Hermione and Harry turned to look at their friend in confusion.

“After what you showed us, did he hurt you?” Ron asked Hermione calmly. “Curse you? Go back on his word?”

“ _No_ , Ron, of course not–”

“Then you better go find him, ‘cause I reckon he’s your missing Guardian.”

*** *** ***


	19. Of Slytherins and Stubbornness

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 19: Of Slytherins and Stubbornness**

Harry and Ron willingly split from Hermione and returned to their common room to find the other three, who looked up at them hopefully.

“Well, we definitely think it’s Malfoy,” Harry said determinedly. Ron sat by his sister with a sigh but indicated his agreement. Blaise breathed in relief.

“I can finally convince the paranoid git we’re not betraying him.”

“OK, you two know Malfoy,” Ginny said desperately to the Slytherins. “Are you _sure_ he’s sending her the charms because he likes her? Could he be trying to mess with her or something?”

“Oh trust me, he likes her,” Blaise grinned. “He’s avoiding her because he’s terrified, and he’s completely convinced she’ll never care about him, especially since his aunt tortured her and he had to hold her captive.”

“So did you,” Harry pointed out.

“I helped, but she was _his_ responsibility,” Blaise replied. “I only watched her in the mornings when Draco was at class. He’s the one who locked her up in the Manor, and pretended to torture her, made her sleep in his bed every night and kept her wand–”

“ _What!?_ ” Ginny shrieked. Theo chortled behind his hand. Blaise froze when he realized what slipped out.

“OK … we definitely didn’t need to know that part,” Harry said weakly.

“No Potter, you didn’t.” They all turned just in time to see Draco Malfoy slam the door.

*** *** ***

Hermione was starting to feel like her “Mage” powers were giving her whiplash.

She hated them because they scared her – and others – but she loved how they connected her to her friends. They were confusing and frustrating and terrifying, but right now as she tore through the corridors, she wished more than anything that this unstable magic could just help her find him.

*** *** ***

“Draco–”

Theo didn’t get any further before the pale boy Silenced him.

“There’s nothing to say,” Draco hissed in fury. “You know Potter’s always had _everything_ I wanted? He had respect, he had friends, he even got to play on the sodding Quidditch team in first year–”

Harry tried to speak and was hit with a Tongue-Tying Jinx. Draco faced Blaise and Theo with a murderous look. Even Ron didn’t want to move.

“I lost almost _everything_ in the bloody war,” Draco’s voice seethed with venom. “I lost my father, Vince got killed, Greg turned on me and got himself locked up, and you two were _all I had left!_ Then you keep secrets from me and betray me to HARRY POTTER! Now thanks to you I’ve got _NOTHING_ left to lose!”

Blaise stood to plead with his friend, and Draco punched him. Blaise didn’t move to defend himself; blood trickled down his chin from a split lip.

“I know what you did, you _TRAITOR!_ ” Draco screamed. “I hope you rot in _hell!_ ” Immediately he turned on his heel and vanished out the door.

*** *** ***

Draco stomped through the corridors and down the marble staircase. He hated that he couldn’t leave Hogwarts; completing the year was required as part of his sentence from the Ministry. He intended to fly around the Quidditch pitch one last time, then he’d quit the team and just keep blinders on for the next four months. After that he could retreat into the Manor and never look at anyone but his mother for the rest of his life.

He was halfway across the Entrance Hall when Hermione and her unmistakable hair rushed out of the Great Hall towards him. He inadvertently stopped in his tracks and then he saw Hermione glance behind him. Reluctantly he turned.

The Potter-junkies had _followed_ him. They stood at the bottom of the marble staircase and wore the same pathetic _please forgive us_ looks that reminded Draco of his father’s business _inferiors_. They were probably planning to beg him to understand, or to bribe him to join whatever stupid Gryffindor madness they were up to. He bit back the urge to scream obscenities at them and whipped his head back around.

One tiny glance at Hermione’s desperate flushed face confirmed the thing he feared.

_She knows._

In that instant, Draco was done with Hogwarts. If the bloody Ministry had a problem, they could stick him in Azkaban for all he cared.

He tore his eyes away from her face and began running.

*** *** ***

Hermione was quick. As soon as Draco took off towards the dungeons, she darted around a group of Hufflepuffs standing nearby and threw herself in front of him, blocking his path.

“Move.” His tone was fierce.

“No.” She folded her arms defiantly as she ignored the inevitable staring around them. Lunch was ending and quite a few students had filtered into the Entrance Hall. “I know there’s been a misunderstanding, and you need to–”

“I don’t _need_ to do anything!” Draco spat. He wanted to scream at her, but her brown eyes were pleading with him … _damn her, how does she do that?_ He considered shoving her out of his way, but people were staring. He didn’t need to make his reinstated sentence worse by attacking the Gryffindor favourite.

“You have to _listen_ –”

“There’s _nothing_ you can say!”

“You don’t know everything–!”

“–you think _you_ know everything?!”

“Maybe you should let them EXPLAIN–!”

“Maybe you should shut up, you bloody know-it-all!” Draco sneered loudly.

“Maybe _you_ should shut up, you arrogant prat!” she replied sharply.

“Mudblood,” he spat desperately.

“Ferret,” she whispered back.

She might’ve moved in to kiss him first, but he held her so tightly she knew it wasn’t only her decision. His lips were amazingly soft, and his strong hands against her back and in her hair were warm.

There were people making horrified noises and there were people catcalling, and Draco didn’t care. Nothing mattered but her soft hair, her hot lips pressed against his, and the tiny appreciative noises in the back of her throat.

_She’s perfect._

*** *** ***

When Hermione experienced the shocks with her other Guardians, they were quick and surprising, followed by the formation of an invisible string that connected each of them to her.

This was different. She felt something warming her body from deep inside as though it were breathing a sigh of relief.

Was she learning to listen to her soul? The warmth of Draco’s hands on her neck and his lips on hers was … _perfect_.

She felt her magic embrace him with all its might, and the string connecting them was strong as iron.

*** *** ***

“Now _that’s_ house unity for you,” Ginny announced loudly. Scattered laughter could be heard around the Hall, but not all the noises coming from their classmates were supportive.

Draco and Hermione pulled away from each other slowly. The look in his eyes slowly morphed from bliss into confusion. They were utterly oblivious to the mixed sounds of confusion, hatred, and laughter spewing in their direction from most of the Entrance Hall. Though many of the inter-house relationships had come unexpected, nobody anticipated the Prince of Slytherin with the Princess of Gryffindor.

“What … _was_ that?” he whispered.

“Draco, I have a _very_ long story for you.”

*** *** ***

Hermione watched Draco try to catch his breath. She’d taken him out to walk around the lake, and by the time she finished her explanation they were quite far from the castle. Draco had slumped to the ground, trying to piece together everything she said. She quietly watched the wind create gentle ripples on the lake.

“I … can’t …” Draco pulled at his hair, his sleeves, and the grass, trying to find a physical handle on the situation.

Hermione lowered herself to the ground next to him and gently reached for his hands. He looked down and she knew he could feel the warmth of the bond.

“I didn’t believe it either,” Hermione said softly. “I ran away from it … I never wanted to be special. I never wanted to– to have this affect on other people.”

“When did you …?”

“Ginny thinks it manifested on my birthday. After that, the others reacted to me when I touched them. It happened with Blaise just a few days ago.” Draco was silent. He hadn’t made eye contact with her since the kiss ended.

“Listen, Draco, I don’t understand … _us_. I know we have a– a strange history, to say the least. But after last year, I suppose I thought we could be friends, yet you’ve been avoiding me–” Draco drew away from her and stood up.

“Kinda like _that_ ,” she grumbled under her breath. She rose to her feet and followed him; he stood at the very edge of the lake looking away from her. “I know you’re mad at Theo and Blaise, but if you were straight with me about how you felt, we might’ve told you sooner–”

“No, Granger. You shouldn’t’ve brought me into this. I should’ve left ages ago, it’s not fair …”

Hermione froze. She wanted to argue with him, but her voice was caught in her throat.

“This was a mistake. I– I gotta go.”

She stepped forward in protest, but he was too quick. His long legs carried him away from her and out of sight.

*** *** ***

Ron couldn’t stop fidgeting. He figured Hermione’s discussion with Malfoy would take a while, but this was getting ridiculous. It was nearing dinnertime and they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of either lovebird.

Ron abandoned his _Explain British Muggle Families_ essay and started to pace the Gryffindor common room. He closed his eyes and tried to reach out for Hermione. He could feel her, but she seemed far away. He squinted in confusion, wondering if she was across the grounds, or if she felt far because she was hurt or unconscious.

Making up his mind, Ron made for the portrait hole.

*** *** ***

A flash of blond hair caught Blaise’s eye for a split second, and he abandoned his homework instantly to chase his friend. Their dormitory door slammed shut and Blaise frowned when he couldn’t enter. The door should open at his touch, which meant Draco blocked it with something.

Blaise pounded on the door. “Oi, talk to me!”

There was frantic rustling and slamming in the locked chamber.

“What’re you doing? Where is she?”

Theo jogged down the corridor in confusion. “Why are you–?”

“He’s locked himself in,” Blaise grunted as he struggled with the door. “DRACO!”

The door opened, but a burst of magic threw the two wizards against the opposite wall. Next second, Draco was out and storming down the corridor, dragging his trunk behind him.

“No, you _DON’T!_ ”

Theo quickly hit Draco with a Trip Jinx, causing him to drop his trunk with a loud thud and nearly land on his nose. From the floor Draco turned with a murderous expression, wand raised. Blaise disarmed him fast and glared, equally murderous.

“Get out of it!” Draco roared, lunging at Blaise. Blaise dropped both wands and caught Draco by the arms, pushing him roughly against the wall.

“You _coward!”_ Blaise yelled at him. “How could you even _think_ about running away?!” Draco managed to free one arm just enough to punch Blaise in the jaw, but the poor angle meant the stronger wizard was barely affected.

“You don’t know _anything_ , you traitorous bastards!” Draco was nearly screaming in frustration, trying to resume his departure.

“STOP!” roared Theo. In his fury, his wand emitted angry red sparks in their direction. He ignored his shaking hand and aimed his wand directly between Draco’s eyes.

“You will _never_ walk out on her; _do you understand me?_ ” he seethed. Even Blaise faltered slightly at the rage coming from their usually quiet friend. Draco struggled against the wall, bright red and furious while Blaise’s tight grip held him rigidly by the neck of his robes.

“Get in there,” Theo spat. He sent Draco’s trunk flying back into the dorm, and he scooped up their wands. Blaise dragged the kicking Slytherin through the door and Theo locked it with every charm he knew.

*** *** ***

Once Ron got a general sense of direction, he barely needed to look for Hermione. She was huddled in a tight ball near the lake. Dead grass, dried leaves, and dirt spun around her as though she were sitting in the middle of a cyclone.

Ron was glad he had the foresight to take his broom; she’d gotten further away than he expected. He slid from the broom and approached the whirlwind carefully. If she weren’t his best friend, he’d probably be flying away, Gryffindor courage aside.

“Hermione? It’s me.”

Slowly the wind died down and the debris settled, allowing him closer. She was clutching something very tightly in her left hand and seemed to be distraught past the point of tears.

“What did he do?” Ron growled.

Hermione just shook her head and buried her face in her arms. Ron sat down and struggled to hear her cracked, heartbroken voice through the small gap in her arms.

“He doesn’t want me.”

*** *** ***

Blaise paced the small room, his hands in fists. Theo had been forced to bind the stubborn Malfoy to his bedpost to stop him beating his way back through the door. Now he stared down the agonizing blond with more anger than he felt in a long time.

“ _Where is she?_ ” he demanded.

“I thought you could track her through your precious _bond_ ,” Draco sneered, struggling against his bindings.

Pacifist Theo nearly punched his friend. “Is _that_ it? You’re _jealous_ of us?”

“I SAW HIM WITH HER!”

Theo looked at Blaise in confusion, who glared at Draco. “I’ve never done anything but _hug_ her, you lunatic! D’you seriously think I’d make a move on the girl my best mate wants?”

Draco nearly growled in anger. “Let me OUT! You bastards have no idea what you’re doing–”

“No, YOU have no idea,” Blaise snapped. “I _can_ feel Hermione; I know she’s not in the castle, she’s out _there_ somewhere–” he waved desperately towards the window “–and I bet a thousand Galleons you got scared and left her out there _alone!_ She’s powerful enough to get past the school border and if she leaves we can’t follow her!”

Theo clenched his hands into fists and desperately wished he could send a Patronus to Harry or Ron to go find her before she disappeared again. Draco became stubbornly silent, and Blaise punched a pillow in rage.

“What did you _do?!_ You two snogged in front of the entire bloody school, she took you away to tell you the truth, and you _abandoned_ her?”

“ _I HAD TO!”_ Draco screamed.

Theo tried desperately to bring his own anger level down – they needed answers _now_. “Did you even let her explain?” Theo demanded as calmly as he could. “Or does the idea of being with her really scare you that much?”

Draco stubbornly ignored them. Blaise stalked over and grabbed Draco by the collar again.

“Gonna hit me, Zabini? I shouldn’t be surprised,” Draco spat. “You two made your loyalties perfectly clear–”

“Our loyalty,” Blaise growled. “Is to _Hermione_. And we _know_ you cared about her too, but now you want to ditch her just ‘cause she’s spending time with us!?”

“You bastards made your choice!” Draco snarled. “And _I’m_ choosing to stay the hell away, so she and Potter can just pick somebody else for this ruddy Mage quest!”

“She didn’t _pick_ any of us,” Theo said angrily. “That’s not how this works; none of us had a choice–”

“You had a choice to betray me to the sodding _Gryffindors!_ She was never supposed to know–”

“–that you have feelings for her?” Theo finished. “Then why are you sending her Link charms? You thought she wouldn’t figure that out?”

Draco froze. She knew? He’d picked an ancient pure-blood custom because she wasn’t _supposed_ to figure it out; he just needed a way to appease his own misplaced feelings while giving her an easy option to ignore him. He thought it was foolproof–

“Draco, you think the Elemental Mage gets to just pick whoever she fancies to be her Guardians?” Theo continued, exasperated. “You think she would’ve considered _us_ of all people? She had no choice; our souls are practically _connected_. If you walk out on her, she’ll be lost – incomplete – for the rest of her LIFE.” Theo was still irate but the slightly softened look on Draco’s face made him think he was finally getting through to the stubborn snake.

“You’ve seen her power,” Blaise added irritably. “It’s dangerous, unstable. She needs all five bonds to fix that. She needs _you_ , you bloody prat! I don’t care how scared you are to face your sodding feelings.”

“I’m not her ruddy Gryffindor _hero_ ,” Draco gritted through clenched teeth.

Realization fell over Theo like a wave. _This is how Blaise felt, too._

“You’re not scared,” he said slowly. “You think you’re not _good enough_ for her.” Draco’s tightly closed eyes provided all the confirmation he needed. Blaise took a step backwards with his hands in his hair.

“This is the same conversation we had before the Battle,” Blaise exclaimed. “You _want_ to protect her, but you think you can’t! You think you’ll save her by running away!”

Draco tried to maintain his stone-faced fury, but he very noticeably choked. The damaged brick wall hiding his emotions was crumbling beyond his control. Occlumency was no use against these two, the only people apart from Narcissa who really knew him.

Theo closed his eyes and let his head fall against the bedroom door. He slid to the ground, exasperated, and wordlessly released Draco’s bonds. “After dealing with her fear and your obstinance, NEWTs will be a bloody picnic,” Theo grumbled. Draco slumped to the floor next to the bed, forehead in his hands.

“NEWTs’ll be a picnic for you anyway,” Blaise mumbled. He could still feel how distant Hermione was and he wanted to smash his way out the tiny window to go find her.

“Malfoy, running away won’t help either of you.” Theo lectured after a moment. “She cares about you too, and she’ll think its _her_ fault if you leave. Besides, you two activated the bond already, which means you won’t be able to get her out of your head now no matter where you run. You’ll always want to know where she is, you’ll feel the subconscious need to get closer–” Theo stilled when he realized Draco was laughing humourlessly.

“You think that’s _new?_ ” Draco said incredulously. “I haven’t gotten her out of my head _all year_ and anytime she’s not in the room I feel like I’ll crumble into a sodding pile of ashes.” He gripped his blond hair tightly. “All that’s changed is _she_ knows something’s different! She thinks I’m supposed to drop everything and join her gang of heroic righteous Gryffindors like you two idiots–”

Blaise snorted. “We’re no Gryffindors; that’s never gonna change. The only difference is instead of protecting our own skins, we care about protecting _her_. You just gotta do the smart thing–”

Draco shook his head furiously. “The _smart_ thing is to get the hell out of her way, so I don’t make things worse. You two got off clean and you won’t ruin her life–”

It was Theo’s turn to snort. “You’re concerned your damaged reputation will hurt hers? You bloody moron, you clearly have no idea how she feels about you.”

Draco stared as Theo resisted the urge to smack the blond upside the head.

“Remember how you were acting at Christmas? Pretending like you couldn’t care less about anything, except every time we said her name you’d get all glazed over and stare into the distance? Hermione does the same thing anytime we bring up _you_ and she has no clue she’s doing it! You think she wants you to leave her alone because the Ministry put you under house arrest? You think that _matters_ to her?”

“She …” Draco choked. “She wouldn’t pick me … I was awful to her–”

“You saved her life, remember?” Blaise reminded him. “Pretty sure that erases all the lousy stuff you used to do. Besides, we saw that lip-lock display. You think that was all _you_ up there?”

Draco swallowed hard.

“You got angry at Blaise because you thought he was going after her,” Theo said firmly. “If you really thought so little of yourself and you wanted her with someone else then you wouldn’t’ve been mad at him.” There was no reply, but Theo wasn’t surprised. Teenagers plus emotions did not logic make.

“I’ve had enough stubbornness from you,” Theo decided. He rose to his feet. “I need my strength because I expect I’ll need to talk some sense into Hermione next.”

Draco looked up. “You’re– you’re going to … find her?”

“Yes,” Theo said simply. “Will you be joining me?”

*** *** ***

When Theo locked the door to stop Draco from running, he had no reason to suspect he’d need an Imperturbable Charm.

Pansy Parkinson tucked the Extendable Ears in her pocket and crept back down the corridor.

*** *** ***

Theo led the way out the Entrance Hall, confident that Blaise kept a close eye on their group’s latest flight risk behind him. Draco’s blank expression didn’t fool them.

They were stopped halfway across the grounds by Harry and Ginny in their Quidditch robes, clutching their brooms.

“Ron sent me a Patronus saying Malfoy left Hermione,” Harry fumed. “He’s out there with her, I’m going after them.”

“So are we,” Theo said with a warning look back at Draco, who remained utterly impassive.

Blaise caught the menacing gleam in Ginny’s eyes and debated stepping away from her, grateful it wasn’t him she was fuming at. Her three-minute duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts the previous week earned her fifty points for Gryffindor from the impressed Professor Gangrous and she remained undefeated.

The redhead tossed her broom at Theo, who caught it, surprised. She withdrew her wand and marched directly up to Draco, who – to the shock of the other three – kept a straight face even when the unblinking witch pressed her wand to his Adam’s apple.

“You listen very closely, you slimy snake,” Ginny began, fire lacing her voice. “Against all reason and logic, my best friend has fallen head over heels for you. If you do _anything_ to hurt her, you’ll wish Voldemort had blown you to smithereens last year.”

Draco blinked at the short, terrifying witch as she slowly retreated. Theo held out the broom, but Ginny shook her head. “She needs you more than me right now. Get going, all of you.”

*** *** ***

Like Hermione, Theo’s expansive skillset didn’t include flying. He held Blaise’s robes tightly from the back of Ginny’s broom and kept a close eye on Draco, who Summoned his own broom after Theo reluctantly returned his wand.

Harry led the way across the massive lake. It was nearly sunset and the lengthening shadows of shrubs and boulders along the shore hid Hermione and Ron. Harry finally spotted the quiet duo thanks to Ron’s brilliant hair. Ron held Hermione close while they murmured together. Hermione carefully turned something over in her hand and didn’t look up when the brooms approached.

She could feel _him_ looking at her. She stared at a sandy stone on the ground.

Draco stared at her and couldn’t even bring himself to sneer at the angry look Weasley shot him. It had been a long time since Draco believed Malfoys deserved the best … even as plain Hermione Granger, Draco knew she was too good for him. Now, she wasn’t plain Hermione Granger. She was the _Elemental Mage_ and some random magic spark convinced her he was supposed to protect her?

Ron carefully slid Hermione off his lap and stood. The others followed him a short distance away, all casting irate but desperate glances at Draco. Whatever Hermione had been holding in her hand returned to her pocket as she sat still, staring at the lake.

Draco swallowed hard. “Granger, I …” Hermione rose to her feet and wordlessly Disillusioned herself as she started to run into the dusky evening.

Theo grabbed Ron’s arm to stop him from chasing after her. “No. Let Draco find her.” Draco had frozen, then glared in Theo’s direction.

“She doesn’t _want_ me to follow her, Nott!”

“She doesn’t know the truth,” Theo said fiercely. “Go tell her.”

“I thought _you_ lot were supposed to track her–”

“You can do it too,” Harry said quietly.

Draco was partially fuming and partially terrified; now that he couldn’t see her, he realized how desperately he wanted her there. Against his better judgment, he grabbed his broom and closed his eyes. He usually tried to fight it, but this time he allowed the image of her to the float to the center of his mind.

*** *** ***


	20. Of Boyfriends and Beaters

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 20: Of Boyfriends and Beaters**

Hermione fought tears as she raced back towards the castle.

_They had to DRAG him back … he didn’t want to be here._

It was worse than she imagined. She’d worried Malfoy wouldn’t be the right person, or perhaps he’d fight the very idea of the Mage like she did. But he accepted the truth … he just didn’t _care_.

Hermione suddenly stopped and pulled her hand from her pocket. She dropped her Disillusionment Charm so she could see the setting sun reflected against the three pieces of silver in her palm. She let out a furious breath and drew her arm back, preparing to throw them as far as she could into the lake, which had begun to toss angrily.

A hand caught her fist. “What’re you _doing_ , Granger?”

She grounded her feet and refused to look at him. He climbed off his broom and forced her closed palm open. She briefly wondered if she could make a large wave sweep him away from her. He’d probably be grateful to not have to touch a _Mudblood_ again.

“If you didn’t want these–”

“Why would you give me these things?” Hermione wanted to sound angry, but she choked. “You avoid me like I’m diseased, but you keep sending me these stupid charms …”

Draco silently let her hand drop. “I didn’t think you knew what they meant. And I reckoned if you found out, you’d tell me to sod off.”

She turned and glared at him. Behind her, the lake was churning. Draco looked back and forth between her and the water and realized he was frightened … _of her, or for her?_

“Oh yes, how brilliant; I mean, what a truly _clever_ plan! You save my life, you send me gifts, you kiss me in front of the entire school, and so of _course_ the next logical step is for me to tell you I hate you!”

“You _should_ hate me!” he spat. “I was a Death Eater! You were supposed to end up with someone _good_ , someone like Weasley–”

“I _told you_ I didn’t care for Ron that way!” she was nearly screaming; dead leaves began swimming around her feet again. “If you gave me a chance–”

“–you wanted a Slytherin so badly you could’ve picked _Theo_ , at least he’s–”

“Theo’s my _friend_ , you prick! And if you just–”

“–you don’t GET IT!”

“I wanted you to be, too, but you had to act like such a–”

“ _I can’t be your FRIEND!_ ” he yelled.

Hermione froze as tears formed in her eyes.

Draco picked up a stone and threw it as hard as he could into the angry lake. His fury seemed to overtake any fear he had a moment before.

“You’re supposed to be clever but you’re being so _stupid_ about this! I stayed away so you could find someone who _deserved_ you and I tried to leave so you wouldn’t get stuck with _me!_ ”

He began mindlessly kicking another large rock free of the muddy bank.

“You … shouldn’t … be … with … _ME!_ My family _tortured_ you! I locked you up for weeks! You almost _died_ because of me! I don’t _care_ if you’re the Elemental Mage or the Minister of Magic or the bloody _QUEEN_ , you don’t deserve to have some stupid magic bond _choose_ for you–!”

Hermione seized him by the neck and pulled him down to kiss her, promptly vanishing all thoughts from his head.

She pulled away slowly and whispered, “I _did_ choose you … I thought you didn’t want _me_.”

Draco exhaled sharply and stared at her. He slowly reached up to brush the tears from her cheeks and he steadied her face between his palms. The waves on the lake slowed until the water became crystal clear once more. As he studied her warm brown eyes, every remnant of the Occlumency-controlled brick wall protecting his mind vanished into dust.

He didn’t care.

“Theo said this bond thing would put you in my head,” he managed. “But you were already there.” The setting sun reflected in his silver eyes, and they were more beautiful than the charms.

A loud, inappropriate whistle made the couple break from their reverie and look skyward over the still lake. Draco sent a rude gesture in Blaise’s direction for his interruption.

Ron flew closer. “Everything OK?”

Hermione was blushing deeply, and she smiled at the ground. Ron sighed.

“I’ll take that as a yes. You better have her back before dark, Malfoy.”

“Yes, _Father_.” Hermione spat, rolling her eyes. Draco sniggered and waved Ron away.

“Fly home, Weasley. I’m not far behind, I still need to deal with those two backstabbers over there,” he gestured vaguely towards the broom carrying the other Slytherins.

Hermione frowned, and he smiled at her innocently. “I won’t hurt them … much.”

*** *** ***

“It’s getting dark,” Draco pulled away from the kiss long enough to murmur. “Wouldn’t want your bodyguards to come back out here and gang up on me for stealing you away for so long.”

Hermione laughed from her comfortable position on his lap. “You’re one of them now too, Draco. You’ll have to get used to it; they can’t help being protective. It’s instinctive.”

“I didn’t really expect Weasley to be OK with … this.”

“I’ve talked with Ron,” she answered with a smile. “He and I aren’t meant to be together like that, and he follows that bloody poem seriously. Theo convinced him that he’s the Strategist Guardian.”

“Theo must be the Swot Guardian.”

“The Acumen,” Hermione corrected with an eyeroll. “I call him my _wise old owl_. And Harry’s the Sorcerer; he controls magical energy which guides the other four elements.”

“Of course Potter is the magical _center_ ,” Draco laid back on the yellow grass with a sigh. “I don’t remember that poem too well. Am I your personal bodyguard or something?”

“No, I think that’s Blaise …” Hermione admitted slowly. “He’s the Warrior. You’re … erm …” He propped himself up on his elbows and studied her. The blush in her cheeks was lovely.

“Spit it out, Granger, I’m dying of old age over here.” Hermione buried her face in her arms and mumbled something.

Draco slid her off his lap and retrieved his broom. “Never mind. I’ll go beat it out of Theo.”

She leapt to her feet and snatched his sleeve.

“Don’t you _dare_ –” He turned back, smirking at her.

“You’ll have to stop taking everything seriously if you’re gonna hang out with Slytherins,” Draco teased. She huffed at him and he watched her, waiting impatiently.

She studied her shoes. “You’re supposed to be … Alitis.”

Draco squinted. “My Latin is terrible.”

“He’s the … the Heart. Or the _Anchor_ , according to Theo’s book.” She started biting at her nails.

Draco was quiet for so long she raised her head nervously to look at him. He seemed to be watching her in disbelief. “I’m … your _heart_.”

 _Is he gonna leave again?_ She went bright pink and bit her lip. Now she understood how the others felt about her.

Draco reached out slowly to touch her cheek. He looked like he was facing an Advanced Transfiguration NEWT theory question. “I don’t even know how to … I mean, I– I love my mother, but I’ve never–”

“Me either,” she said softly. “I love Harry and the Weasleys … they’re my family. But I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone quite like that.”

He swallowed. “Well, Granger, for now, maybe we should– should just …” he ran his fingers through his hair. “I mean, maybe we should try … er, dating?” This wasn’t anything like agreeing to date Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione smiled shyly. “I’d like that.”

He smirked at the ground and she saw a tiny bit of the old Malfoy sneaking in. It didn’t bother her.

“Right. Er, I need to get you back to the castle. You’ve got Gryffindors to reassure and I’ve got Slytherins to pummel.”

She sighed. _Boys._ “Are you actually mad at them still?”

Draco studied Hermione’s nose. “I get why they started spending time with you lot, but I don’t like that they kept secrets from me and … and told my secrets.”

“I’d be angry too,” Hermione admitted softly. “I have nothing without the trust of my friends. But it was risky; they thought I’d be in danger if you knew the secret and you _weren’t_ the last Guardian–”

“So, you didn’t know it was me?”

“Not for sure, until I … er– kissed you.”

Draco leaned down slightly. “I dunno what you’re talking about. Refresh my memory.”

Hermione giggled and kissed him. He hadn’t communicated with her easily or teased her since they played their stepping game, but even then, she didn’t think she’d ever felt so relaxed around him. It felt perfectly _right_ to wind her fingers in his hair and press herself against his body–

“It’s officially dark,” Draco murmured a moment later. She reluctantly stepped back instead of melting further in his arms.

He mounted his broom and reached for her hand. All the pink vanished from her cheeks.

“Er– I’ll walk.”

He squinted at her. “What?”

Hermione shuffled back and forth on her feet.

“You don’t trust me,” Draco said blankly. _This was too good. I knew it._

“No, I do!” Hermione insisted loudly. “I just … I _hate_ flying.”

He blinked at her nervous expression. “You said you hated Quidditch for _two_ reasons …” he recalled slowly. “Because you can’t learn it from a book, and–”

“I’m afraid of heights,” she mumbled, folding her arms.

Draco carefully took her arm and pulled her towards him just a little. “So, you _do_ trust me?” he murmured.

“Yes,” Hermione breathed. It was odd that despite the onset of chilly wind, she wasn’t cold with his hand on her.

He tilted his head. “Well, Hermione, I’m your boyfriend now, right?”

“Yes …” she didn’t think his lips ever formed her name before.

“Would I let you fall off a broom?” He’d inched closer. His lips were close to her ear and his warm breath was making her dizzy.

“Well, not intentionally, but–”

“Would I ever let anything bad happen to you again?”

His lips were hot against her ear and Hermione felt the most pleasant shiver run down her spine. Draco took advantage of the distraction by guiding her leg over his broom as he kicked off the ground.

“ _Hey!_ ”

He wrapped an arm across her securely and chuckled in her ear. “Get used to it, love. You’re dating a Slytherin now.”

*** *** ***

Hermione expected weird looks when she and Draco appeared to breakfast hand in hand. She did _not_ expect deliberate hisses and loud, rude comments from all four tables. She ignored Draco’s pink cheeks and clutched his hand tighter as she stomped to the Gryffindor table with her chin high. She chose a seat across from Neville, who looked up in surprise.

“Oh … uh– hey, Hermione. Malfoy.”

“Longbottom.”

Hermione gave Neville a smile, which he gently returned. _More tolerant than Slytherins_ , Draco mused to himself as he wryly imagined bringing Hermione to sit with him across from Pansy. He’d been lucky to avoid his clingy ex-girlfriend for now but suddenly wondered if he could design a protective enchantment to keep her a safe distance away.

Harry and Ron sat by Neville and gave Draco nods of acknowledgment. Ron studied the couple carefully but seemed satisfied that Hermione’s smile was genuine.

Draco played with his spoon and wished he’d waited for Blaise or Theo to arrive. He wasn’t sure how to talk to the Gryffindors. He listened carefully and realized some of the hateful comments whispered throughout the Hall weren’t aimed in his direction, but Hermione’s.

_Traitor … Slytherin-lover … was our hero – now with a Death Eater? Didn’t think she was the type to go for someone just ‘cause they’re hot – Should kick her out of Gryffindor …_

Feeling protective in an overwhelming rush, Draco slipped his arm around Hermione’s waist.

She let out a screech that made everyone around them jump – including Draco, who sprang back from her in horror.

“I … I didn’t–”

Draco suddenly realized Potter was laughing and Hermione was blushing. She reached for his hand and pulled him back to his seat.

“Hermione’s really ticklish, Malfoy,” Harry said through a snicker. “Put your arm around her shoulders, not her waist.”

Hermione’s face was very pink, but Draco smirked as he slid his arm over her shoulders and said, “Well it’s nice to know she has a weakness other than the library.”

Harry and Ron chortled, and Hermione gave them looks of fake anger at their betrayal. Draco grinned at her innocently and started to feel a tiny bit more at home, especially after she leaned into his side warmly.

Chatter finally proceeded as normal across the Gryffindor table, but unfortunately, Hermione’s untimely shriek ensured everybody in the Hall was now aware of her and who sat next to her. Including Pansy Parkinson.

*** *** ***

Draco wasn’t pleased when Pansy followed him into his bedroom later to start ridiculing him for losing his mind completely and betraying the _old ways_. She tried to guilt him into taking her back instead, threatened to write his mother – she desisted when Draco laughed and said his mother would _love_ Hermione – and finally, she began casting counter-curses on him because he must’ve been “magically coerced into dating _that horrible ugly goblin_.”

It took a long while to convince his ex-girlfriend he was in his right mind. Before she left, she smiled sweetly and said, “It’s alright, I’m going to fix things one way or another.”

Draco sighed. Pansy might be a lousy spell-caster, but she was still a Slytherin. He made a mental oath to keep Hermione away from her.

It took a couple bruises – but no trips to the hospital wing – for Draco to make peace with Blaise and Theo. His existing civil-acquaintance with Harry and Ron was carefully managed by Hermione the ever-patient moderator. Ron was leery of trusting Draco – not with Hermione’s safety, but with her happiness. Harry was willing to look past old hatred but remained mildly concerned that Malfoy would try to take advantage of Hermione in one way or another. Thankfully, the instinctive care each Guardian held for their Mage kept things mostly peaceful.

Since Ginny was forced to bring on substandard replacement Beaters, the Dragons were eliminated from the Quidditch tournament. Ron’s Griffins determinedly trained four nights a week; they still had to overtake the Manticores and the Nifflers. Draco insisted that Hermione attend each practice; he was unwilling to let her out of his sight during the day. He walked her to the Gryffindor portrait hole each night and returned early to collect her before breakfast. He tolerated her Runes and Arithmancy classes only because he knew Theo kept an eye on her.

Hermione didn’t want to complain – too much attention from Draco was preferable to the alternative – but the hard benches on the Quidditch pitch were not conducive to her level of studying and the spring weather was unpredictable at best. She had little patience these days for socializing, and even less when her revision was interrupted. Luckily, Hermione and Theo proved ideal study partners since they were equally obsessed with academic perfection. The two studied at the library late into the night while Draco fought to stay awake listening to them quiz each other.

Hermione didn’t have much experience dating, so some of Draco’s new behaviours were strange to her. When they were separated, even for a class, he’d lean down to kiss her lips or her forehead before leaving. It was at least two weeks before she stopped turning pink with each kiss. Ginny reassured her friend that while Draco’s behaviour might be a tiny bit obsessive, she shouldn’t mind because it was utterly adorable – though the redhead would never admit this to Draco. She maintained the role of Hermione’s _badass handmaiden_ _with unforgettable wrath_ and would be the first to have revenge on the blond if he caused Hermione any grief.

Hermione wasn’t used to spending almost every class sitting very closely beside someone, nor having to constantly withdraw her hand from his so she could take notes. One day he simply picked her up and moved her to his right side, allowing him to persistently hold her left hand all class while her right moved along the parchment. Thankfully, this was in Professor Switch’s class and he didn’t notice the oddity since he was busy bouncing around the room happily showing off his newly Transfigured rabbit feet.

The strangest part of dating was how concerned Hermione had suddenly become with her own appearance. She spent far too long each morning fretting with how her hair looked and wondering whether she should borrow some makeup from Parvati. Ginny often had to drag her downstairs, reminding her firmly that _the pale ferret_ would be waiting for her no matter what she looked like.

Luna skipped over to the Gryffindor table one morning and smiled at Hermione’s hand in Draco’s. She sat primly between Ginny and Ron and informed Ron that he needed to purge his Erroneous Earwigs, which could only be done in the company of a single woman. Ron turned bright pink as Luna promptly took his hand and held it firmly in her own for the remainder of breakfast.

*** *** ***

Hermione and Draco headed to the Quidditch pitch one Friday afternoon, but when they reached the front doors it started to rain. Hermione groaned and sent Draco on ahead so she could run back to Gryffindor Tower for her cloak. Draco let her go only because Captain Ron was obsessed with team punctuality – much to Hermione’s annoyance, since the redhead cared little about punctuality unless it affected Quidditch.

She was nearly back to the Tower when her path was suddenly blocked by two students. Hermione recognized them as Lance Westin and Nestor Rogers, the prejudiced Beaters thrown off Ginny’s team in December. The pair of bulky Slytherins looked at Hermione with equal expressions of clear hatred, and she looked back in confusion.

With a hand on her wand in her pocket, she slowly turned and walked away. Their footsteps were quick; they promptly caught up to her, but she conjured a full Shield Charm so they couldn’t get close.

Westin stood in front of her, angrily pounding at the shield about a foot away from her face. Behind her, she could hear Rogers muttering counter-spells. She tried to remain calm and focused her energy on the shield, urging it to remain in place.

This made no sense … Did their former hatred of Hufflepuffs transition to hatred for the Gryffindors–?

Hermione stared as the wizard in front of her met her gaze. Westin’s eyes were utterly black, like empty tunnels. They weren’t after her because she was a Gryffindor.

_No, no, not again …_

Calling for help wasn’t an option since it was nearly dinner and everyone would be down in the Great Hall, except for Ron and Draco who were out on the pitch–

_I_ _need Blaise._

Hermione breathed deeply and kept her wand aloft but closed her eyes and brought Blaise’s face into her mind. She nonverbally conjured her Patronus and whispered, “ _Help_.” The Slytherins seemed to be frozen in place as the otter swam around Hermione in one rapid circle and then took off down the corridor.

Her attackers were angrier than ever; Hermione felt her shield shudder under the force of Rogers’ Reductor Curses. In front of her, Westin had his arms outstretched and flexed, ready to catch her. She stared at the black-eyed wizard and wondered what kind of curse he could be under; neither the Imperius nor Confundus Curses would cause the victim’s eyes to turn black.

Did they _know?_ She didn’t want to believe it was possible, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that she was being attacked by more black-eyed students.

“What do you want?” Hermione tried.

“ _You’re too close … I won’t have it …”_

Hermione didn’t know Westin well, but a shiver ran down her spine as she realized this voice couldn’t possibly be his own. It was deep and dripping with _evil_. It reminded her of Voldemort’s voice over Hogwarts demanding the surrender of Harry Potter. Whatever was going on, this boy wasn’t in his right mind.

Her shield finally collapsed. Hermione prayed Blaise was close and she could manage without magic for a few minutes. She thrust out her arm; with the heel of her hand, she caught Westin in the nose and bought enough time to duck around him.

She didn’t get far before Rogers snatched her around the waist with a shout of triumph. Westin caught up quickly and tore her wand away. He reached into his robes for his own. He didn’t seem to care that his nose was leaking blood.

Hermione tried to kick out, but the much larger boy holding her in place was strong. She tried to Summon her wand back but Rogers pulled her wrists tightly behind her back with one of his massive hands so she couldn’t catch it. She listened to her wand clatter uselessly to the ground. Her core flared up instinctively as Westin came closer, but she forced her magic down. She wouldn’t risk hurting more students–

Rogers tilted her chin up, exposing her throat. He started laughing against her ear, a high, cruel laugh that sent shivers to her toes. Westin aimed his wand under her chin and his black eyes widened with glee.

“ _Farewell, Sorceress_ ,” he hissed. “ _Diffindo–!_ ”

A dark-skinned fist collided with the side of Westin’s face just as Hermione felt a sharp pain across her throat … she heard several shouts of anger, a _thud_ , and then nothing.

*** *** ***

“–get some sleep …”

“Don’t touch me.”

“We’ll come get you if she wakes up–”

“I’m not leaving.”

“He’s not gonna move. Let it go, Theo.”

“I don’t want to leave her either, but there’s nothing we can do right now …”

“Wait, she moved!”

Hermione felt a very warm hand – no, hands – on her arms. The memory of the last hands holding her arms flooded her, and she gasped.

… she tried to gasp. The noise that came from her throat was a strangled rasp that barely even reached her own ears.

“Hermione?”

Her eyelids felt like they’d been Spellotaped shut, but Hermione slowly managed to peel them open and she looked up into the face of an angel. How odd. She’d never really believed in Heaven.

_If Heaven were real, why would it smell like Cleansing Potion?_

Hermione desperately took several blinks and tried to clear her head … her angel was very pale, his almost-white hair was lit from behind by a bright candle, and she suddenly realized a real angel wouldn’t be wearing Quidditch gear. “Draco,” she murmured in her raspy voice.

“Thank Merlin,” he muttered. She blinked again and he shifted, making the halo of light disappear, but he still looked like an angel. He leaned in and rested his forehead gently against her own. She was very stiff but suddenly felt warmed to her toes as though she’d been sitting by a fire for several hours.

Draco’s soft hands cradled her left arm, and she felt his fingers stroking her experimentally as if making sure she was real. Someone else was holding her right hand, and she slowly turned her stiff neck to Ron’s freckled face, which broke into a relieved grin. Harry stood behind him and the blurry shapes that were Theo and Blaise stood at the end of her bed. She blinked again and her vision started to clear; she felt a dull pounding and realized she must’ve hit her head.

Harry and Theo looked relieved, but Blaise gripped the rails of the hospital bed so tightly his knuckles were white.

“You gave us a right ruddy scare, Hermione.” Ron leaned in and kissed her forehead. She felt Draco’s hands tighten on her arm a tiny bit. “We all felt it when you passed out and me and Malfoy almost fell off our brooms! What the bloody hell happened?”

“I …” Speaking seemed oddly painful. Hermione reached up to touch her throat and encountered a very thick, soft bandage.

“No,” Draco said. He took her hand and held it gently with her other one between his own. “Don’t try to speak, love. You’re healing, but it might be a little bit before you can talk.”

“Here,” Harry reached into his bag and retrieved a Self-Inking quill and parchment which he set at her side. “Can you tell us what happened?”

Hermione took the quill but looked up at Blaise with a questioning expression. She didn’t think she’d seen him this angry since the Battle of Hogwarts.

“Your Patronus came to find me,” he said tightly. “But I was already on my way; I could feel something was wrong.” Hermione’s eyes curiously moved between the other boys’ faces.

“No,” Theo answered, understanding. “We didn’t feel it, only Blaise did. We were in the Slytherin common room; he said you were in danger and just took off. We were halfway to you when your Patronus found us and led us the rest of the way.”

“Blaise got there right when you fell …” Harry said quietly. “He knocked the two of them out and Theo ran to get Madam Pomfrey. You’ve been out for almost eight hours.”

“I thought I was too late,” Blaise’s fists on her bed were shaking. “He– he cut you, and …”

Hermione shook her head as fiercely as she could with her very sore neck. Her hand gripped the quill tightly as she wrote _NEVER blame you_.

“Told you,” Theo murmured to his distraught friend.

“I don’t get it though,” Ron said as he fisted his hands angrily. “Why’d those two have it in for you? If anything, they should’ve gone after Ginny, since she’s the one who kicked them off the team–”

Hermione wrote _Black eyes. Cursed._

Harry’s eyes went wide. “Like the students that attacked you last month?” She managed a tiny reluctant nod.

“What?” Draco looked up at the others angrily. Harry quickly filled him in on Hermione’s attack, retaliation, and escape into the Forest. Draco’s grip on her arm was rather tight.

“Who were they?” he growled.

“Before you get your blood boiling with revenge, Draco, remember the students aren’t acting on free will,” Theo pointed out. “After Hermione passed out Blaise was struggling with Rogers–”

“His eyes were wrong,” Blaise murmured with difficulty. “His voice … it wasn’t his.” Hermione closed her eyes and nodded in agreement. Draco’s grip didn’t relax.

“But _someone_ cursed them! Somebody’s been trying to hurt her … for a _month?_ ”

“No,” Ron realized suddenly. “ _Longer_ … Westin was kicked off the team in December for shooting a Bludger at the stands, but he said he didn’t remember doing it. We thought he was trying to hit the Hufflepuffs, but Hermione was sitting in the same section!”

“He was aiming for _her?!_ ”

“I don’t get it, though,” Ron scratched his neck. “Is it ‘cause of the war? Are they trying to get revenge on Harry by going after his friends? Except they should go for me, the whole school knows she’s a better dueller–”

“They could try going after Ginny, though, like you said–”

“Then is it ‘cause she’s Muggle-born or something?”

“Hermione,” Harry asked quickly. “Did they say anything to you?”

She took a deep breath and reluctantly wrote _You’re too close – I won’t have it – Farewell Sorceress._

*** *** ***


	21. Of Elements and Energy

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 21: Of Elements and Energy**

Theo snatched Hermione’s parchment and a horrified look fell over him. He began pacing and breathing heavily. Blaise finally let go of Hermione’s bed, but he wore a frightening expression. Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks, and Draco was no longer content just holding Hermione’s arm; he sat right next to her on the bed and pulled her, half-sitting, up against his chest so he could wrap his arms around her.

“Somebody _knows_ ,” Theo muttered as he crumpled the parchment in a fist. “ _How_ could somebody know? We’ve been so careful … nobody should have any idea the Mage is even _here_ …”

Harry was counting on his fingers. “Ginny would never tell … It can’t’ve been Hagrid ‘cause we told him about Hermione _after_ the Bludger attack … D’you think somebody else figured out the Hat’s warning like we did?”

Theo shook his head furiously. “The true poem is very rare and even if someone _did_ link the warning to the legend, they wouldn’t have reason to suspect Hermione. It would be a whim, at best.”

“What about the Unspeakables?” Draco said sharply. The others filled him in earlier what they learned from Hagrid and the _Prophet_. “Anyone who reads the _Prophet_ knows they’re looking for a nineteen-year-old witch; what if someone in the school told them _she’s_ the one?”

Theo stopped pacing. He opened his mouth to speak but Madam Pomfrey’s office door opened, and she came rushing over in a striped dressing-gown. “I thought at least _one_ of you would tell me she’s awake,” the matron grumbled as she shoved Ron out of the way to get to her patient. “Now, let me see that.” She carefully peeled the bandage away from Hermione’s throat. Hermione was numb and didn’t feel anything, but her wizards went pale at the deep, ugly slice.

“Healing nicely,” the matron murmured. “You’ll need more Blood Replenishing Potion, and a few for pain; make sure you don’t try to speak, and _you_ come with me.” She barked at Ron, who scampered after her.

The main doors of the hospital flung open and Professor McGonagall flew in, with Ginny right behind. “Oh, Miss Granger, you’re awake,” the Headmistress was beside herself. “Where’s Madam Pomfrey?”

Harry gestured and the older witch went off to find the nurse. Draco held Hermione close and stroked her hair with one hand. Ginny flopped into Ron’s vacated chair, looking at Hermione with relief.

“Are you allowed to be out of bed, Weasley?” Draco asked, bemused.

Ginny shook her head as she carefully examined her roommate. “I told McGonagall to go right ahead and take points, I don’t care – I needed to make sure you were OK.” She promptly stole one of Hermione’s hands from the blond’s grasp. “Stop hogging all her attention, Ferret.”

Harry snorted amusedly and Draco scowled. Hermione exchanged grins with her adoptive sister. Ginny enjoyed giving Draco a hard time, but they knew she secretly liked him since he adored Hermione. He had no idea, and Ginny preferred it that way.

The bustling nurse returned with an armful of potions, with Ron in tow carrying more. She shooed Ginny away, who went to stand with Harry at the end of the bed.

“Now, Minerva,” Madam Pomfrey began as the Headmistress rejoined the group. “I know you have questions, but I don’t want her speaking yet, and she needs to rest. I’ve already tried to usher these hooligans out the door–” she looked disapprovingly at Hermione’s crowd of wizards “–but they will not be budged.” She unstoppered several bottles and gently tipped them down Hermione’s throat.

Through her worried expression, Professor McGonagall glanced curiously at the Slytherins, particularly at Draco’s protective arms holding Hermione up. Hermione had trouble swallowing; the matron snapped her fingers quickly at Ron for a glass of water, which she poured down Hermione’s throat with a muttered spell. Draco murmured soothingly into her ear as she choked down the liquid.

Madam Pomfrey double-checked Hermione up and down. Finally satisfied, she left instructions for the rest of the potions to be taken as soon as the Headmistress completed her questioning. She headed back to her office and Hermione watched Theo and Harry exchange worried glances as Professor McGonagall took a seat beside the bed.

“Miss Granger, the young men who attacked you are being held by Professor Gangrous. Mr. Zabini informed us they’d been cursed and didn’t appear to be acting of their own accord. They have no memory of the incident; however, we couldn’t find any indication of a spell. Can you tell me what happened?”

Hermione glanced down the bed at her wizards. Theo returned the Self-Inking quill and a blank scrap of parchment. The look in his eyes said _Be careful_.

Hermione carefully wrote _Ambushed me – don’t know why – black eyes – voices sounded wrong – don’t believe they hurt me on purpose._

“ _Black_ eyes?” Professor McGonagall said sharply. “That is what Mr. Zabini said as well, but I’ve never heard of a curse that causes such an anomaly …” the Headmistress’ eyes moved furtively around Hermione’s fan club, all of whom were carefully looking away from her. She sat up straight and folded her arms with a huff.

“I’ve lived with teenagers for over forty years, including James Potter, Sirius Black, and the Weasley twins. If you think I cannot recognize when students are trying to deceive me, you are gravely mistaken. Mr. Potter, you of all people know how dangerous some secrets can be–”

Harry glanced at his girlfriend, who minutely shook her head. On her other side, Blaise nodded towards Ginny indicating his agreement. Draco rested his head on Hermione’s with pursed lips. He wasn’t ready to trust anyone else with her safety.

“Harry,” Professor McGonagall said with a sigh as she rose to face him. “You know how fond I was of Albus, but I believe he made a terrible mistake. He left the daunting task of defeating Voldemort to three students who barely succeeded in time – I wish now, more than anything, that the three of you had come forward and allowed the Order to help you. I do hope you’ll reconsider trusting me with whatever it is you’re keeping to yourselves right now.” Harry didn’t nod, but it was obvious that he agreed with her.

The Headmistress turned to the Slytherins. “I understand my relationship with Slytherin house has been strained in the past, but as you all seem to have taken such a liking to Miss Granger–” her eyes flickered towards Draco in an almost amused manner “–I hope you trust that my only priority is the safety of my students.” Professor McGonagall began to walk away but turned back as she reached the doors. “Madam Pomfrey will most certainly not allow all of you to remain for the rest of the night and, Miss Weasley, you’re not supposed to be up at all. I believe it more than sufficient for just one of you to remain.”

Ginny sighed in defeat as the door closed behind the Headmistress. “I can go … I reckon Malfoy’s the one staying?”

“You’d have to Stun him to get him out of here,” Blaise answered. “We’re not telling McGonagall anything, right?”

“She’s concerned about what happened with Westin and Rogers,” Harry answered. “We can’t tell her anything she doesn’t already know.”

“I wonder what’ll happen to them,” Ginny murmured. “If they can’t prove they were being controlled–”

“Hermione vouched for them,” Theo answered. “Hermione’s word is like gold to the Headmistress; she’ll take it seriously.”

*** *** ***

Draco fussed over Hermione worse than Madam Pomfrey and didn’t let her leave the hospital bed until Sunday morning. Madam Pomfrey had to reassure him six or seven times _YES, she is perfectly healed now_. He stubbornly lifted her from the bed and headed for the door before she insisted that she could walk. “My throat doesn’t affect my feet, Draco.”

He paced by the Gryffindor portrait hole periodically kicking the wall while he waited for her to get changed and retrieve her homework – “I missed an entire day!” His separation anxiety was awful since he hadn’t left her bedside all weekend.

Blaise and Theo missed them at the hospital wing and promptly tracked Hermione to the Tower. “She OK now?” Blaise asked. Draco nodded.

“Her throat’s a little scratchy, I wanna get her downstairs so she can have some tea.”

“Don’t pull your hair out,” Theo scolded as Draco kicked the wall again, despising his lack of patience. “We can all feel that she’s in the Tower, so she’s safe.”

“Why’d Blaise know she was in danger and I didn’t?” Draco muttered, voicing a concern he’d been hiding for a day. Blaise remained still, but Theo pursed his lips thoughtfully. The portrait hole swung open and the four Gryffindors emerged. Hermione took Draco’s hand immediately and he kissed her head, making Ginny grin behind her hand.

“After breakfast we need to find a safe place to talk,” Theo said quietly. “I think I’ve figured out a couple things.”

*** *** ***

Draco made Hermione drink four cups of tea and insisted she eat soft porridge instead of bacon or toast. She might’ve considered arguing with him, but she was enjoying the amused smirks Ginny hid behind her mug. Hermione decided to allow the uncharacteristically concerned Slytherin to spoil her.

When they finished eating, the group ventured to the grounds where they couldn’t be overheard. They mounted brooms – Hermione was _very_ thankful for Draco’s protective grip – and made for the far shore of the lake, which sparkled in the March sun. After they landed and magically arranged several stones into a semicircle to seat themselves, Theo dove right into his notes.

“Alright, I started doing more research after what happened on Friday. We already deduced Blaise is the Mage’s Warrior. Even though we all carry the title _Guardian_ , I believe Blaise is Hermione’s literal bodyguard. When she’s physically in danger, it makes sense that he’s aware of it first because he’s the best of us to protect her. What d’you think?”

He directed the question at Blaise but glanced at Hermione as well. Blaise was shifting uncomfortably, so Hermione reluctantly decided to share. “I told you once, Theo, that I felt strings connecting me to each of you. I didn’t notice them until you followed the string to find me the day I ran away.”

“The day I convinced you I was right,” Theo teased gently. She smiled.

“I’ve a string connecting me to Draco now too, but the one with Blaise feels a little different. When I’m not with one of you the string changes. It becomes taut and almost painful, like it’s reminding me of the distance. It’s not bad when we’re across the castle, but the day I went into the Forest it was much harder.”

“Then why’d you run?” Harry asked softly. Hermione studied her fingernails.

“I was ashamed to be around you, so I ignored the strings.”

“How does Blaise’s string feel different?” Theo asked. Hermione bit her lip.

“It’s– it’s difficult for me to be away from any of you but it’s harder to be separated from Blaise.” Beside her, she felt Draco stiffening slightly.

“If Blaise is her bodyguard, she instinctively wants him nearby because he protects her?” Ginny suggested. Theo nodded in agreement and looked at Blaise, who had also glanced in concern at his easily jealous best friend.

“The poem calls me _Lupus_ ,” Blaise mumbled. “I think it might be kinda … literal.”

“Are you a werewolf?” Harry teased lightly. Blaise half-grinned.

“If I were, I’d have bitten half the school by now.” He took a long breath. “Hermione’s string idea makes sense except I don’t think I find her that way.” He pulled up handfuls of grass around him. “Twice now when she was in danger, I felt something inside me screaming. Like an alarm bell. And when I don’t know where she is, I get angry real fast, and I want to hurt …” Blaise closed his eyes and scrunched his face. “I want to hurt anybody that goes near her.”

“You don’t mean hurt with curses; I presume?” Theo asked dryly. Blaise cracked his knuckles in response, and Theo nodded. “Very well. You have _literal_ protective instincts, perhaps not unlike that of an alpha wolf.” Ron raised an eyebrow and Harry looked puzzled, but both Blaise and Hermione found the explanation surprisingly accurate.

“You’re probably strong as a wolf,” Draco muttered. Blaise half-grinned again. Theo thoughtfully tapped his wand against his notes.

“All of us agreed we wanted to be closer to Hermione after the bond was activated, right? Personally, I’m comfortable enough if she’s in my line of sight, but sometimes I feel like I need to actually _touch_ her to know she’s safe.” Theo noticed Draco’s narrowed eyes and immediately rolled his own. “Draco, we’re not lusting after your girlfriend, so you can relax.” Ginny giggled and Hermione reassuringly leaned against Draco’s side. He sighed and fought to suppress his jealousy as he motioned for Theo to continue.

“It makes sense that Hermione’s strings are trying to bring all of us closer, because we’re supposed to be protecting her, but I assume Blaise has a stronger desire to actually be in _physical_ contact with her.” He glanced at his friend, who looked bashful. “Be honest, Blaise. I believe it will help if we understand as much of this as possible.”

Blaise stood from his spot near Theo and crossed the circle to Hermione’s other side. He sat next to her and picked up her hand.

“This feels better,” he murmured with a sigh. “If there’s an alpha wolf inside me, it wants me to hold onto you.”

“So … you don’t follow a string to find her; you follow her _scent?_ ” Ron asked in a strange voice. Blaise narrowed his eyes, but it was Hermione who shook her head.

“I don’t believe it’s _that_ literal. But Blaise’s element is fire, right? Fire suggests anger, vengeance, intensity–”

“Passion,” Blaise wiggled his eyebrows at Draco who scowled at him.

Ginny retrieved the poem from her pocket again. “ _A champion of fire … the shadow he faces to bring down his ire._ So, Blaise is an angry wolf that sniffs out danger?” Theo chuckled and Ron snorted with laughter. Blaise kept Hermione’s hand in his and just shrugged. He was surprisingly comfortable with the description.

“Well, as Hermione’s alpha wolf bodyguard, he’d naturally be angry with anything that threatened her,” Theo said assuredly. “I won’t deny he was rather terrifying when Draco tried to run away …”

“You were in a right state yourself,” Blaise countered. Theo tilted his head.

“I concede, though Draco’s threat to Hermione was emotional, not physical. You were much angrier than I when Westin and Rogers attacked her; frankly, I was quite happy to back away from you.”

“We found out you fractured Westin’s skull and broke six of Rogers’ ribs,” Harry said to Blaise through a grimace. Blaise held Hermione’s hand tighter, not regretting a thing. “And you were pretty angry when you heard about the Unspeakables searching for her, too,” Harry added.

“I guess I’m more affected when she’s in danger,” Blaise replied simply. “Or if I think someone’s gonna take her away.”

“OK, so that explains why Blaise knew she was in trouble,” Ginny sat between Harry’s legs and leaned against his chest. “But I’d still like to know _why_ Hermione was in trouble. I mean, she can defend herself against magic, but they physically restrained her – why didn’t they curse her? If I wanted to do Hermione in, I’d go for an _Avada_. I wouldn’t bother cutting her throat ‘cause there’s a chance she could heal.”

“The group that attacked you last month,” Ron said suddenly, looking at Hermione. “You said the bloke came at you with a knife?” Hermione nodded. “Not a wand …”

“And the first time, they tried to hit her with a Bludger,” Theo concluded. “This brings me to my second theory. Whatever or whoever is attacking Hermione is unable to actually _murder_ her. They’re trying to _stop_ her, but for some reason they can’t – or won’t – kill her directly.”

“I don’t care what they’re trying to do,” Draco growled into Hermione’s neck as he held her closely against him. “I don’t want them anywhere near her.”

Blaise looked down at Hermione in confusion. “Why _didn’t_ you defend yourself against them? Your power’s strong; I reckon you could’ve gotten away–”

Hermione looked down at her wand as she turned it over in her hands. “I used a Shield Charm, but they got through it, and I– I didn’t want to risk anything else.” she mumbled. All five Guardians glared at her, and Ginny threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Hermione, for the love of Merlin, you’re no use to anyone if someone kills you! You’re allowed to knock a few Slytherins on their butts to protect yourself!”

“You never used to mind doing that,” Harry teased, although he still gave Hermione a mildly irritated look. “Do you really value yourself so little?”

Hermione bit her lip and continued mumbling, “I don’t want to hurt anyone …” Draco huffed in irritation.

“Of course, she’s a Gryffindor, so she wants to save _everybody_ –”

“Oh, get out of it,” Hermione said crossly. “You know my magic is unstable; even if I tried to just push those two away from me, how do I know I wouldn’t’ve accidently blown a hole in the side of the castle?”

“Precisely,” Theo gave her a stern look. “And it’s time for you to finalize the bonds so you no longer need to worry about that. You need to let _us_ start monitoring your power, then _you_ can feel safe doing wandless magic again, and _Malfoy_ might stop holding you so tightly because he’s afraid you’ll send him away.”

Hermione looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend angrily. “That better not be true!”

Draco fumed at Theo in betrayal.

“Oh, I get it now,” Harry was amused. “Theo can handle Hermione’s stubbornness ‘cause he’s spent eight years handling Malfoy’s.”

“Longer,” Theo replied with a leer. “We met when we were about seven. And don’t worry Hermione, he’s not going anywhere. His smirk is worse than his bite.”

Draco cursed under his breath at Theo – and Blaise, who barely concealed his own smirk. He bravely looked down to face his irate girlfriend.

“How could you possibly think I’d send you away?” She tried to sound frustrated, but he could hear her voice shaking and he started hating himself again.

He gripped a handful of grass with a very tight fist and slowly answered, “I don’t _want_ to leave, but you deserve better–” She promptly reached up and smacked him. It wasn’t hard, but enough to make him look down at her in surprise. Across the circle the Weasleys were silently cheering.

“Don’t you _ever_ talk like that again or I’ll _really_ make it hurt,” Hermione seethed.

Despite himself, Draco felt his lips draw back into a smile. _My tough little lioness_. This was why he couldn’t stand Pansy; he wanted a witch who stood up for herself.

He bent down to kiss her angry lips. “I won’t,” he bargained. “But you’ve gotta stop trying to sacrifice yourself for other people. You’ve done enough of that.”

Hermione sighed in defeat and returned his kiss. “Very well, it’s a deal.”

“OK, OK, that’s enough,” Ron grumbled as Draco started returning the kiss with more enthusiasm. “Couple’s therapy is over, now we’ve gotta get back to the issue here. Theo’s right, we gotta do the bonding thing!”

“The problem is I don’t know _how_.” Theo complained. “I’ve spent ages researching magical bonds, but the Hogwarts library isn’t enough. A standard bond like a marriage spell or even an Unbreakable Vow isn’t strong enough because we need to be able to help control Hermione’s magic. I might leave over the Easter break and go back to the Estate–”

“We’ve seen the size of that library, mate, it would take the lot of us about two years to check all the books,” Blaise pointed out. Theo scowled.

“I might have a hint,” Hermione said reluctantly. “I don’t know how much I can trust them because astrology is a waste of time, and even though they knew who I was just by looking at me and they said _some_ stuff that made sense, I don’t know if it was all full of rubbish; I mean I was upset, so the centaurs might’ve–”

“Woah, woah!” Harry cut in loudly. “When did you talk to _centaurs_?”

Hermione rubbed her head. “Last month when I ran into the Forest. They found me, and they– they called me _Sorceress_. They took me to a female named Eltanin, and she said some things–”

Theo made a strangled noise in his throat and gaped at her. “You met a _female_ centaur?!”

Hermione nodded. Ginny frowned and waved her hand in front of Theo’s face, but the tall boy didn’t react. “I think she broke Theo.”

“I’ve met centaurs in the Forest before, but never a female.” Harry said.

“Aren’t they supposed to be really carefully guarded?” Ginny added.

Theo nodded his head very slowly. “They’re also more powerful and they live longer. I don’t think a human has seen a female centaur in about two hundred years.” He was still staring at Hermione. “What did she _say_ to you?”

Hermione sighed, already regretting bringing it up. “She said my energy is at a crucial apex and I could fall to the Darkness. She said I’m destined to be tied but the ties are incomplete.”

“Urgh!” Ron grumbled irritably. “You knew _ages_ ago you needed to complete the bonds, and you’re _still_ fighting it! I don’t get it, Hermione, why didn’t you tell us?”

Hermione squirmed and resented the six stubborn pairs of eyes trying to nonverbally worm answers out of her head. “I just … I don’t want you all to be stuck to me forever–”

“Dragon dung,” Ginny announced firmly. “You think these mad wizards want it any other way? You know better, Hermione.”

She bit her lips closed. It was the familiar feel of Harry’s hand on hers that gave her the courage to admit the truth.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I care about you so much already. What if we make the bonds even stronger and then I _lose_ one of you?”

Harry’s green eyes closed in understanding. “Right … being alone means no risk.”

Hermione gulped. “I’d _love_ to be bonded with you all, but when I think about risking any of you … I just can’t. I’d rather be alone.” Harry and Ron wore matching expressions of understanding, but Blaise scowled at them.

“Are you bloody Gryffindors gonna let her say no?” The wolf in his chest rose in anger at the idea of her staying away; he knew, instinctively, she needed to be _closer_.

“Ginny,” Ron sat up suddenly. “Gimme the poem?” Ginny unfolded it and handed it over.

Hermione frowned. She still didn’t like that they all took the poem so literally.

Ron’s lips moved as he read over the page and then his face lit up in understanding and he read aloud:

_The shadow begins now to hunt for her soul,_

_To snuff out the Light, lest her heart gain control._

_Though against her power the Darkness holds fast,_

_So afraid and alone, her soul will not last._

Theo and Ginny seemed to understand at the same time. They sat up straight and stared at Ron. “I forgot; the Shadow wants to destroy her _before_ the bonds are complete!” Ginny breathed.

“That’s why Westin said she was _too close!_ ” Theo exclaimed. “Whoever or whatever the _Shadow_ is, _that’s_ what’s controlling the students! It knows who she is, and it knows she’s found all five of us!”

Draco’s arms tightened around Hermione. Blaise slid protectively closer to them both, looking furious.

“We _have_ to do this, Hermione,” Ron said desperately. “I know it’s risky, but if you’re alone …”

“It’s just a poem, Ron …” Hermione mumbled, even though she knew it was pointless. Eltanin had warned her about overcoming her fear and listening to her soul, which screamed at her to strengthen the loose strings that held the Guardians to her. Still, her fear of losing them held her back. What if she tried to tighten the strings and her unpredictable magic broke them completely? What if she _hurt_ her friends like the Mirror of Erised warned her?

Draco shook his head against hers. “I don’t like Divination either, but this damn poem has been too accurate. I’m not risking it.”

“Me either,” Ron said firmly. Ginny smirked at the idea of her brother agreeing with Malfoy about anything.

“We still don’t know _how_ to finalize the bonds,” Harry reminded them quietly. “Maybe we should’ve brought McGonagall in on this after all, I bet she could help with that.”

“I don’t wanna trust anybody else,” Blaise growled. “Even the bloody centaurs know her secret already–”

“That’s it,” Theo breathed. “The centaurs.” All eyes returned to Hermione.

She wriggled uncomfortably in Draco’s grip.

“Spill,” her boyfriend ordered.

“They told me when I was ready to complete my soul that I would find my way back there,” Hermione admitted with a sigh. “Eltanin said I would _know_ it, but I don’t know what that means.”

“You _must_ stop keeping these things to yourself,” Theo told her disapprovingly. Ron and Harry exchanged an amused glance that said _someone’s lecturing HER for a change_. “If I’d known about the centaurs, I could’ve asked my old teacher about this weeks ago.”

“Firenze isn’t part of the Forest herd anymore,” Harry reminded him. “They kicked him out because he sided with Dumbledore. Some of them fought with us at the Battle, but it was a one-time thing. He’s still banished.”

“I’m inclined to trust the words of a female centaur, who certainly has more foresight than any human, and I’ve found Firenze to be quite knowledgeable,” Theo said thoughtfully. “If there’s a chance he can help, we should take it.” He looked at Blaise’s furious expression. “We won’t need to tell him anything,” he reminded his friend. “Firenze should know who Hermione is just by looking at her, like the others did.”

“Should we go ask him, then?” Harry said.

Theo shook his head. “I’m not positive he’ll take visitors on the weekends, let’s go see him after his last class tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ve got more I want to explore. Provided nobody runs away,” he looked ominously at Hermione and Draco.

“Well at least we can find _her_ if she runs,” Ron teased. Hermione smiled at him sweetly.

“Not if I run past the enchantments, you can’t.” Draco tightened his arm around her, but it was unnecessary. Before either of them could blink, Blaise had both her wrists secure in his large hands.

“Can’t outrun _me_ , Sorceress,” he teased.

“Good thing he’s your bodyguard, since you regularly outrun _us_ ,” Harry joked. Hermione chuckled at him. Theo tilted his head as he studied her.

“Alright, Hermione, you’re in a good mood right now. Do you think you could try some elemental magic for us?” Hermione froze.

“You _want_ her to use her unstable magic?” Ron asked quizzically. Theo nodded.

“I want her to use it by choice. When she was angry at Draco, she set a hurricane on the lake and when she was anxious, she make the fireplace explode.” Hermione went very pink, but Theo looked at her reassuringly. “I know you can’t control it, but you’ve never tried to interact with the elements by choice, have you? It’s only happened when you were scared or frustrated.”

Hermione flashed back to her excursion into the Forest. The leaves swirled when she was frightened by the centaurs; yet in Eltanin’s calming presence even the wind was perfectly silent.

Blaise opened his mouth to speak but Theo shushed him. He could practically _feel_ Hermione’s brain working, and he wanted her to figure it out herself.

Hermione slowly stood. Draco and Blaise leapt to their feet and she rolled her eyes at them. “Just let me try,” she insisted. Theo pulled Draco back a step, but Blaise was harder to convince. He stood firmly between Hermione and the edge of the grounds in case she did try to run.

The shore of the lake was a half-dozen paces away. Hermione watched the gentle wind create light waves on the lake and imagined them larger … she shook off the idea. It didn’t feel right.

She liked making her portable blue fires but experimenting with fire probably wasn’t safe … she flashed back to her escape into the Forest. She’d leaned into the great oak tree when she was afraid and held her palms against it when the centaurs surrounded her. She drew in a breath, suddenly understanding. When she needed strength, she’d instinctively reached for the _earth_.

They were on the opposite side of the lake from the Forest, but there were a few scattered trees and bushes nearby. Hermione took a breath and extended her palm in the direction of the closest apple tree. Though she was at least ten feet from it, she thought she could almost _feel_ it in her hand. She knew the bark would be slightly rough and she imagined she could just fit her hand around the near branch. She tightened her hand, and she _reached._

The branch grew, longer and longer, until it rested in her hand ten feet away. She ignored the astonished and interested sounds her friends were making and she closed her eyes, just feeling the wood against her skin. It was spring; the tree had blossomed but wouldn’t produce fruit for several months.

Hermione thought about the last element, _energy_. Or was it magic? She imagined energy from her body filtering through the branch in her hand like the subtle warmth she felt from her Guardians. The energy travelled the length of the branch and connected to the heart of the tree. Without opening her eyes, she concentrated on sending it flowing through the trunk like veins from a pulsing heart. Her energy trickled down each branch, each twig, to each little white blossom, and at her command, they grew.

She exhaled deeply, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. She released the branch in her hand and allowed it to return to its normal size. When she opened her eyes, she faced a tall, beautiful apple tree covered in fruit so ripe it was falling from the branches.

Draco stared, Ginny cheered, Harry looked proud, and Theo walked over to stand next to Hermione.

“How did that feel?” he asked quietly.

“Exhausting,” she answered. “But … _wonderful._ ”

*** *** ***


	22. Of Centaurs and Constellations

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 22: Of Centaurs and Constellations**

At Hermione’s insistence, the remainder of Sunday was spent studying – _we’ve got less than eight weeks!_ Monday afternoon they waited outside the Divination classroom as the last class of the day was ending.

After the last of the fourth years trickled out, Hermione and the others followed Theo into the forest-classroom. She looked around interestedly.

“Excuse me, Professor, I’m not sure if you remember me from several years ago–”

“Theodore Nott,” the palomino centaur replied softly. “Possibly one of the most open-minded humans I’ve met.” Draco and Blaise exchanged amused looks. “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to introduce my friend, Hermione.” Theo reached back for Hermione’s hand and drew her forward. Firenze lowered his gaze to Hermione and his eyes widened.

“Is it truly possible?” he murmured. Hermione just looked bashful. Firenze suddenly noticed the other wizards and seemed concerned. “I would very much like to speak with you,” Firenze murmured to Hermione, “But they will need to leave. Theodore Nott can stay.”

“Professor, these four have the same connection to Hermione as I do,” Theo said carefully. Firenze looked at him and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he nodded his understanding.

“Please close the door.”

Ron, at the back, pulled the door closed and locked it. Harry walked forward and Firenze tilted his head in recognition.

“Harry Potter, you are …” his bright eyes shifted to Hermione’s and back to Harry’s green ones. “Yes, of course. The Soul. And …” he glanced back at Theo. “… the Mind, naturally. How can I give you my assistance?”

“Hermione met a centaur named Eltanin several weeks ago,” Harry said. “She said when Hermione was ready, she’d find her way back to them. We wondered if you knew … er, if you might have an idea …?”

Firenze nodded and led them deeper into the forest-classroom. The wizards sat on the grass as he directed Hermione to a tall tree stump. When she hoisted herself up, she was eye-level with the centaur. She was uncomfortably aware that she effectively sat upon a pedestal. Firenze studied her eyes carefully.

 _Perhaps the eyes really are the window to the soul?_ she thought, bemused. At his direction, she recounted her interaction with Eltanin. He studied her in silent thought, occasionally glancing among her wizards.

“Eltanin sees many things,” Firenze finally said softly. “Her wisdom is beyond most, and her words cannot be false. You have chosen your Guardians and your soul desires to bond with them, but only the first step has been taken. There is a sacred place to which I am forever barred, but you, Sorceress, need to find your way there to take the next step.”

“How do I find it?” Hermione asked quietly. Firenze’s keen gaze was surprisingly reassuring though he had but a fraction of the calming perception she felt from Eltanin.

The centaur gently reached for her hand, and she let him grasp it between his own. “Draco calls to you,” he murmured. “He designed you, and he will guide you to him.”

Behind Hermione, three pairs of confused eyes glanced at Malfoy. Theo impatiently gestured skyward, where the Draco constellation flickered faintly in the enchanted ceiling.

“You are a physical spirit.” Firenze murmured, “Your soul will become ethereal, but for now it is rooted as if adhered to the earth itself. You suppress much fear. You cannot release your soul until you learn to open it, to trust.”

“I do trust some people …” Hermione tried to argue. Firenze shook his head.

“You trust pieces of yourself only. To complete the next step, you must overcome your fear to trust your entire soul. It will be a test, the hardest test, and the ever-present darkness against which Draco has so long fought will emerge victorious should you falter.”

Draco glanced skyward again. It must be some weird coincidence that his mother picked _that_ constellation to name him after, although he’d always been grateful his name wasn’t something horrendous like _Sagittarius_.

“I’m still not sure how to … find the place.” Hermione said carefully, struggling with the vague answers. Firenze bent to pluck a stem of grass, which he laid in her open palm.

“You are a physical spirit,” he said again. “A physical spirit demands a physical link. In your quest to create ethereal bonds, you first need a bond you can touch.” The centaur closed Hermione’s hand around the blade of grass. “Your token will guide you when you learn its significance.” He took a step backwards and bowed his head slightly.

Theo rose from the ground, recognizing the gesture of dismissal, and thanked the centaur for his help. They began to leave – Theo quickly shushed Ron when he opened his mouth – and the centaur vanished into the trees.

*** *** ***

“He’s as nutty as Trelawney was,” Ron groaned as he flopped onto the sofa. They found Ginny waiting for them in their usual common room.

“I trust him,” Theo answered. “Divination is imprecise, but Trelawney was a massive fraud. Non-humans have certain perceptions we can’t understand, especially regarding the otherworldly or ethereal–”

“Theo, it’s too late in the day for a lecture,” Blaise fake yawned, causing Theo to frown and Hermione to silently giggle since Theo looked exactly like her in that moment.

Draco sat next to Blaise and pulled Hermione onto his lap. She wondered if strengthening the bond would make Draco more possessive of her, or less. She loved his warm arms but sitting higher than the others made her self-conscious, like she was placed on display.

“Firenze guessed that Harry is the Sorcerer,” Theo argued. “He also knew Hermione was anchored to the earth. Though she can control all the elements, I believe she has the strongest connection to the earth.” Hermione looked quizzically at Theo.

“How’d you know?”

“He’s right?” Ginny asked, amused. “Theo, have you ever been wrong in your life?” The tall Slytherin chuckled at her.

“Yesterday, I suggested you interact with the elements by choice. You looked at the lake, and likely felt the wind, but you chose to act upon the _earth_. I believe you felt the most comfortable with it, no?”

“Plus, Malfoy’s element is earth!” Ginny exclaimed.

“OK, so Firenze knew she liked earth,” Ron persisted. “But how do we know he was right about anything else?”

“He knew who she was,” Harry pointed out. “Just like the other centaurs. I think Theo’s got a point; they can see things we don’t.”

“And what if one of those horses gives her up to the Unspeakables?” Blaise demanded.

“Impossible,” Theo said firmly. “They’re stubbornly untrusting of humans; the fact that Firenze teaches here was the ultimate betrayal for them. But their reactions to Hermione seem to defy their standards. They wouldn’t’ve worked so hard to warn her about what was coming if they intended to hand her over to the Ministry of _Humans_.”

“Well, OK,” Ron sounded resigned. “But he wasn’t helpful anyway; we still don’t know what we’re supposed to do next–”

“What’s the _sacred place_ Firenze mentioned?” Harry wondered aloud. “The centaurs seem to think Hermione’ll find it somehow.”

“She has some trusting to learn first,” Draco teased. Hermione just sighed.

“The reason most people dislike foresight is its lack of precision,” remarked Theo. “Most people want clear, black and white answers–”

“Like Hermione,” Ron cut in with a grin.

“–but centaurs don’t work that way. I don’t think the Draco constellation will _literally_ give Hermione directions.”

“Well, when she accepted her power, she felt the strings between us, right?” Harry ventured. “Now, Firenze wants her to trust us more …?”

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t think I could possibly trust you more, even though I haven’t known all of you very long. I didn’t even _think_ about calling Blaise for help the other day. A year ago, I wouldn’t call anyone for help but Harry or Ron, but I trust you three snakes against all reason.”

The three smirked at that, and Ron piped up, “Maybe it’s NOT us. The bond makes us want to protect her, right? We probably _can’t_ hurt her, so maybe she’s s’posed to trust someone else.”

Draco shook his head furiously. “We’re not telling anybody else what’s going on – Weasley Junior and Half-Giant is more than enough along with all the bloody centaurs. Anyone could try and take advantage of her–”

“Hermione didn’t _choose_ to trust me,” Ginny pointed out. “I’m the first one who guessed she was the Mage.”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “You learned at the same rate we did, but Hagrid …” her eyes suddenly brightened. “ _Hagrid!_ ”

There were exchanges of confused looks. Hermione pulled herself off Draco’s lap and made for the door. Blaise reached out and stopped her instinctively.

“No, no, I’m not running away – I know what I need!”

*** *** ***

Draco only let Hermione return to Gryffindor if Harry went along. He sat very still, clenching his fists until they dashed back into the room ten minutes later.

Hermione wordlessly opened her palm to reveal a smooth black stone embedded with silver flecks.

“Hey, Hagrid gave you that for your birthday!” Ron exclaimed. Hermione nodded.

“He said he found it and it reminded him of me for some reason. When I picked this up, I thought about how Hagrid is the only person outside the bond I actually trusted with my secret and look what happened!”

She turned the stone over in her hand. Some of the silver flecks were shining as though the stone was illuminated from within, subtly drawing a familiar pattern in the quartz.

“ _Draco,_ ” Theo breathed, staring at the stone. “I was wrong! Hermione, a piece of the earth is _literally_ showing you the way!”

“Damn, that centaur _is_ good,” Blaise mumbled. “So, this’ll help?”

“I think … the place we’re supposed to go is marked by the constellation,” Hermione said hesitantly. “I need to take the stone with me. I know how ridiculous this sounds–”

“Hermione,” Ron laughed. “We’ve been trying to convince you for ages to stop being so logical, and you’re finally there!”

*** *** ***

The evening was too cloudy, so they agreed to venture out to find the centaurs the next night. Despite fervent protests, Hermione insisted that Ginny wouldn’t be sneaking out of bed to accompany them into the deep woods.

“Like you three haven’t broken curfew a hundred times,” Ginny huffed.

“It’s a Tuesday night, Ginny, I wouldn’t be going out either if my bloody Guardians weren’t so desperate for me to get this bond done. I really should be doing my Runes homework–” A sideways look from Ron made Hermione stop arguing in a huff.

Ginny’s boyfriend patiently stroked her fiery hair. “We need you here,” Harry insisted. “What if we don’t come back? _Someone_ has to be here who knows the truth.” Ginny pursed her lips and Ron hid a grin.

“Fine,” she sighed in agreement. “But if you lot aren’t back by sunrise I’m going straight to McGonagall!”

*** *** ***

Tuesday felt like an oddly long day. Hermione carried Hagrid’s stone in her pocket and couldn’t stop running her fingertips over it as she wondered what might happen. What was the _sacred place_ the centaurs wanted her to find? Was it different from their clearing? What was going to happen when the five wizards _bonded_ with her?

Old and new fears alike trickled down her spine and Hermione found concentrating supremely difficult.

The determined wizards led Hermione outside as soon as dusk set in, and she swallowed her arguments. Filch, as always, tried to detain the group as they crossed the Entrance Hall, making Hermione remind him for the sixth or seventh time that returning students had the Headmistress’ permission to break curfew.

The irate caretaker and his ever-suspicious feline companion were reluctant to let them pass, but the cheerful Professor Switch came to their rescue. He waved the students along, insisting Filch accompany him to the Transfiguration Department where, supposedly, Peeves was entertaining himself by emptying all the file cabinets. The Guardians watched in amusement as Professor Switch skipped from the Hall, arm in arm with the disgruntled Filch.

When they reached the perimeter at the Forest, Hermione hesitated. Would it be safe to lead them across the enchantments? She took a single step forwards and was immediately grabbed by the arm.

“If you’re even _thinking_ of leaving us behind …” Harry threatened.

Hermione grinned, despite herself. It was amusing how well Harry knew her, since he’d already experienced being the hero. She grabbed his hand and stepped over the boundary easily.

“Well, I’m glad she dragged Potter first,” Draco mumbled. Hermione huffed but reached back for him.

Once they all set off into the Forest, Hermione held Hagrid’s stone in her hand carefully and wondered how exactly it was supposed to guide her. Her hours in the library researching tracking spells and mapping devices didn’t exactly reference _centaur sacred-site-locating stones_. Though the idea practically made her itch, she decided to trust her gut.

As the silent group maneuvered through the trees, they had to make a sharp left towards the south to stay on the vague path. Hermione immediately felt her stone grow cold.

“Wait …” She turned her feet as if to go north instead, and the stone emitted warmth into her hand. She gestured the others to follow her away from the path, ignoring Ron’s muttering about _following magic rocks_.

“At least we’re not following spiders this time,” Harry muttered under his breath. Ron shivered.

*** *** ***

For two hours they pressed forward through the dense trees, occasionally turning in accordance with the temperature of Hermione’s stone. Draco and Theo kept peering skyward hoping to see their guiding constellation, but the Forest grew thick above them as they travelled.

Hermione pulled her cloak around her tightly and was about to make another turn when Blaise suddenly grabbed her and thrust her behind him. The others raised their wands quickly as several shadowy figures emerged from the trees before them, their arrows aimed directly at the wizards’ eyes.

“Wait!” Hermione cried out from behind Blaise’s muscular back.

The centaurs didn’t lower their weapons, but one cautiously stepped closer. Theo lowered his wand, but the others stayed alert. When the approaching centaur looked closely at Hermione, he dropped his bow and gestured to the others to stow their weapons. His cinnamon-brown colouring was familiar; Hermione thought he was one of the centaurs that found her last month.

The wizards reluctantly lowered their wands; Hermione had to tug on Blaise’s arm to encourage him to follow suit. She stepped out from behind him and the lead centaur sank to a bow. His comrades copied the action and Draco could just make out Hermione’s blush in the wandlight.

“Sorceress,” the brown centaur raised his head to address her. “You are beginning to pass into sacred land where no humans are permitted to cross. How is it you knew your direction?” Hermione held out her hand, with her starry stone in her palm.

“Eltanin will be pleased to know you heeded her advice,” the centaur said, with clear reverence in his voice. “You are permitted to walk this path, although–” his eyes flickered to the wizards behind her “–are these your chosen ones?”

“Yes,” Hermione said firmly.

“Will you permit us to guide your path? The Forest beyond is darker than the rest and all will be lost if you fall astray.”

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Theo, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod. She inclined her head to the centaur respectfully. “We would consider it an honour.”

*** *** ***

The centaurs only allowed one wand to remain illuminated to keep their presence hidden. The cinnamon-brown centaur led their way, followed closely by Harry with the lit wand. The other three centaurs brought up the rear, keeping their arrows notched. The Gryffindor and Slytherin wizards walked more closely together than they would’ve a year ago. Draco and Blaise kept looking sideways at Hermione to make sure she was obeying her stone and not just blindly following the centaurs. After half an hour Blaise finally stopped glancing over his shoulder at their new guards, but he remained as close to Hermione as possible without incurring Draco’s jealousy.

The Forest became thicker than ever; the spaces between trees were so thin that they needed to walk in single file for a while. Hermione felt tension from her wizards since they couldn’t maintain a protective circle around her any longer. They quickly worked out nonverbal gestures to each other to indicate where they would walk; any time Hermione followed Harry through a tight gap between trees she felt two others watching her back. She felt quite calm surrounded by the large, strong trees, but allowed the Guardians to protect her to appease their instincts.

The wizards visibly relaxed as the Forest grew less dense; Draco naturally fell into step beside Hermione with Blaise following closely. He kept turning his head, aware of the centaurs behind him and listening carefully for a hint of any unexpected noise.

There was no noise, but he felt as though an alarm suddenly went off, or perhaps his inner wolf smelled something in the air?

Hermione stifled an exclamation of surprise when she was suddenly trapped tightly in the circle of Blaise’s strong arm. “Something’s coming,” he hissed.

The others immediately formed a circle around Hermione and Blaise, wands raised, and the centaurs sprang into attack positions around the group with their arrows aimed outward.

“Oh!” Hermione clutched her chest and began to slip to the ground, but Blaise and Draco caught her quickly.

“What – what is it?” Draco gasped.

“It’s … cold–” she managed to whisper. Harry suddenly stumbled and put his hand to his own chest.

“Dementor–” he croaked. “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Harry’s stag burst from his wand and charged west into the Forest. The centaurs quickly regrouped and blocked the wizards in a line, weapons trained the same way.

They could all feel the cold from the Dementors now. Draco and Ron struggled to hold Hermione up and she felt herself slipping …

_She was trapped in endless Nothing. She tried to cry for help, to reach for her Guardians, but they were lost … Darkness tore her to pieces, ripped her soul into shreds … It let out a cruel laugh as she screamed for them …_

Ron gripped Hermione’s arm tightly and focused on how much he loved her, how much he wanted to protect her. It was stronger than any happy memory.

“ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ”

Ron felt his Patronus burst from his wand more powerful than ever before. It joined Harry’s stag as they tried to deflect the Dementors, but there were too many. It was utterly dark, but in the shimmering light from the Patronuses they could see at least ten Dementors trying to advance on them through the trees.

The centaurs released their arrows, which flew harmlessly through the Patronuses. Ron stared as the arrows pierced the Dementor’s cloaks with absolutely no effect. He exchanged a horrified glance with Harry, who had fallen next to them from exhaustion as his Patronus fought to drive the Dementors back. They’d never felt Dementors this strong; their Patronuses were already starting to fade as the horrid creatures advanced. It made no sense–

The cold in Harry’s chest threatened to freeze his heart; he wanted to protect them, to protect Hermione, who had fainted behind him, but he felt empty inside. His head rang with her screams echoing through the marble halls of Malfoy Manor … he could see Dobby’s bloody little body in his arms, Fred lying frozen in the Great Hall …

The centaurs desperately loosed more arrows, but their moans and cries of anguish intimated they were also affected by the Dementors. The creatures were just feet away and Draco could hear the horrible sound of their rattling breath. Theo lay still beside him. Blaise tried to help Draco shield Hermione, but he was shaking horribly. Ron blinked down at their unconscious witch and suddenly realized there was a glowing light under her cloak.

Realization dawned over him and he grasped the chain around her neck, releasing her Patronus Essence from under her collar. He quickly brought the globe down on a rock, smashing it, while Draco stared.

Hermione’s otter grew rapidly in size as it was freed from the crystal. The wizards watched in amazement as the otter nudged Harry’s weak stag and Ron’s fading terrier back to life.

Between the three bright Patronuses, the Dementors were driven farther and farther back until they finally faded completely. The centaurs fell to their knees in exhaustion.

“Hermione,” Draco begged. “ _Wake up._ ”

Harry crawled to Hermione. He retrieved her beaded bag from inside her cloak and murmured “ _Accio chocolate_.” He caught a Chocolate Frog as it flew out.

Finally, Hermione opened her eyes and Draco almost cried out with relief. With Ron’s help he pulled her up to sit against a tree while Harry broke apart the Frog. He handed Hermione the biggest piece and then passed out the rest.

“Is this human medicine?” one of the centaurs ventured curiously as Harry handed him a piece as well.

Ron smiled around his mouthful and said, “Yup, it definitely is.”

Draco made sure Hermione swallowed her chocolate and reluctantly ate his own. It didn’t make him feel much better; he stood and walked away a few paces. Theo hadn’t stood yet; he held his knees stiffly. Blaise cursed under his breath as he paced furiously several feet away.

“What in the bloody hell were Dementors doing here?” Ron groaned in exhaustion from Hermione’s side. He murmured _Reparo_ to fix her crystal, but it hung empty; her Patronus faded with the others.

“The Dark creatures are drawn to the Sorceress,” the brown centaur said gloomily. “It is said she can destroy the Darkness, and the Darkness wishes to destroy her, first. You must hurry to reach the sacred site.”

“Darkness …” Hermione mumbled to herself as she worked her way to her feet. “They make me see darkness.”

Harry helped Ron hold her up. “I thought your worst fear was failing everything,” he teased. The look on Hermione’s face made the tiny smile slip off his face. “Hermione?”

“That was just a Boggart … Dementors make me see darkness. _Always_ the darkness. It eats me up, and I try to call for help, and I can’t … I’m just alone. It’s what I’ve always seen.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat and he wordlessly pulled Hermione into his arms. He’d always been so badly affected by the Dementors he had no idea how horribly they affected her. She had much more trouble producing a Patronus than he did; Ron’s gift to her had been a true stroke of brilliance.

Ron kept his hand on Hermione’s back as he turned towards the unresponsive Slytherins. “Oi, we’ve gotta get going, what’re you blokes doing?”

Slowly, Theo rose to his feet and Draco and Blaise returned from pacing and kicking rocks. Ron looked at them oddly. Hermione pulled Hagrid’s stone from her pocket and nodded to the brown centaur.

For another hour, the group crept through the trees in almost dead silence. Draco’s hand was very tight in Hermione’s, but she didn’t ask him what was wrong. She knew the Dementors affected everyone differently.

Theo fell into step beside them. “You managed an Undetectable Extension Charm?”

Hermione nodded. “Ron’s dad helped me with it before the war. The three of us had to be ready to travel without warning, so I kept everything we needed in here.”

“Tents, clothes, half the Hogwarts library …” Ron teased.

“Polyjuice Potion,” Harry added.

“But no food.” Hermione said softly. “That was my one mistake. I was so focused on everything else it didn’t occur to me to pack tinned goods or anything like that, so now I’m just used to carrying everything I can think of.”

“We didn’t think of it, either.” Harry reminded her. “We wouldn’t’ve got very far without you, Mary Poppins.” Hermione chuckled at him while the pure-bloods exchanged confused looks.

The cinnamon-brown centaur halted just as Hermione’s guiding stone became almost too hot to touch. She looked up and realized they were at the base of a rocky hill that extended above the treetops.

The centaur turned and bowed his head to her. “Sorceress, the sacred place you seek is near at hand. We cannot follow now, but we will keep all manner of creatures away from this place until the stars fade.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said softly. The other three centaurs bowed to her as well, and the four quickly retreated into the trees.

Hermione slipped the stone in her pocket and began to climb the hill.

*** *** ***

The trek up the rocky hill was long; even Ron was out of breath by the time they reached the crest. The trees slowly thinned, and a grassy expanse stretched out before them, fading into the night. Draco had Hermione’s hand tucked tightly in his own as they brought up the rear.

“I think there’s something up ahead,” Harry called from the front. “It looks like ruins.”

“I wonder if any other Hogwarts students have come this far,” Theo mused. The group turned and could just make out the peaks of the castle miles away through the tops of the tallest trees. It seemed far enough away to be another world.

“I expect since this place is sacred to the centaurs, they don’t normally allow humans nearby,” Hermione answered. They walked a bit further through the dark and found a flat, treeless expanse which held the ruins Harry had seen. He cast a _Lumos maxima_ so the Guardians could get a better look.

They appeared to be on the site of an ancient stone building. Crumbling pieces of broken walls were scattered around the field half-covered in moss and underbrush. In the center of the ruins, eight Ionic columns formed a circle in what might’ve originally been a courtyard. The columns were cracked and draped in ivy. The flat stone floor of the courtyard was perhaps fifteen feet across, and in the exact center was a raised round platform carved with runes.

Theo and Draco glanced heavenward; the Draco constellation twinkled directly overhead. Harry approached the pillars interestedly. “It’s amazing that these are standing even though the rest of the building came down ages ago.”

Blaise bent to examine the rune carvings. “This is probably why the centaurs like this place; these runes are all about foresight and enhancing energy–”

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Draco was trying to hold Hermione still. Her hands were clasped over her mouth in horror. She shook uncontrollably; a chilly wind blew dead leaves in a swirl around her and Draco.

_She released a bolt of white light which collided with Ron’s outstretched hand … he gnashed his teeth together in pain … Harry’s scar burned with violet flame as his face twisted in agony … he fell to the ground like a rag doll–_

Without warning Hermione broke free of Draco’s arms and ran from the ruins as fast as she could.

*** *** ***


	23. Of Agony and Acceptance

**Harry Potter and the Elemental Mage**

**Volume II**

**CHAPTER 23: Of Agony and Acceptance**

“No, you _don’t!_ ”

Draco ran after Hermione but as always Blaise was much faster. He caught up with the runaway witch at the crest of the hill, grabbed her around the middle and forced her to stop.

“One of these days we’re putting a leash on her,” Ron complained as he came up with the others.

Hermione had burst into tears and started crying into her hands, “No … _no_ …”

Draco tried to pull her hands away from her face. “What’s the matter?” He hated how he felt; it was as though her tears landed on his heart like shards of ice, and he was inexplicably terrified. “ _Please_ , Hermione …”

“It’s … I can’t! I can’t do this!”

They all tried to calm the hysterical witch until finally Harry’s soft voice in her ear made her halt her sobs long enough to seize the front of his cloak.

“I s– saw this place! In the Mirror of Erised! I saw the bonds, and it … you …” She was nearing hysteria again; frigid wind began to blow across the hill. Ron’s mouth flew open to speak, but Harry silenced him with a shake of his head. Hermione needed to explain on her own.

Finally, she croaked through her tears, “I– I made you hurt … you were in _agony!_ I remember pushing my energy, _forcing_ it into your body–” she still clutched Harry tightly. “You– you all collapsed …” Harry pulled her against him tightly, and she sobbed into his shoulder.

“I WON’T do it … I won’t hurt you … I _WON’T_ go back there!”

Harry closed his eyes and stroked Hermione’s hair. She’d grabbed him because he understood; he never wanted anyone to suffer for him; how could he ask _her_ to do it? He slowly opened his eyes and shook his head at Ron, who bit his lip.

Theo frowned. He knew logic worked best on Hermione. _But if logic says she’ll hurt us …_

Draco was startled to see his friend’s blank look. He glanced sideways at Blaise who clearly tried not to look afraid. Draco was afraid, too … but the enemy kept attacking her to stop her completing the bonds; she _had_ to go through with this or remain in danger.

He gently tugged Hermione away from Harry and scooped her up into his arms. He started walking back to the ruins. She protested and struggled as he expected, but he held her firmly so she couldn’t squirm down.

Without knowing exactly why, Draco set Hermione down on the raised stone platform. Ignoring her cries of protest, he bent to kiss her deeply. Her protests turned into groans of lust and frustration and she clutched his shirt with her shaking hands.

Draco’s distraction gave the rest of the group time to catch up. He released her lips but held her shoulders firmly. She angrily pounded her fists against his chest.

“Not fair … you sneaky … _Slytherin_.”

“That _was_ kind of a dirty trick, mate,” Blaise laughed from behind Hermione, ideally placed to catch her quickly if she tried to run again.

“Well, it worked.” Draco drawled in response, grinning at his frustrated girlfriend.

“You _can’t_ make me do this!” Hermione cried. “I’ve seen what happens–”

“Since when does Hermione Granger believe in visions of the future?” Ron demanded with a tiny smirk. Hermione yelled in frustration and angrily twisted around, realizing her Guardians had formed a tight circle around her. She grabbed fistfuls of her hair.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Theo said firmly. “Remember what happened, when those students tried to attack you–”

“You think I’m _ever_ going to forget that?” Hermione cried. “Now you want me to do it _again!_ You want me to attack you–!”

“No,” Harry insisted. “Hermione, this is different–”

“You don’t know that! Harry, you wouldn’t–”

“We might not know exactly what will happen here,” Theo said softly. “But we know that if we don’t complete the bonds, it _could_ happen again.”

Of course, these were the magic words. The nightmares were screaming in Hermione’s mind; her best friends were in agony and she was so wrapped up in her power that she didn’t even care …

_If I don’t do this, I could hurt everybody else._

She raised her tear-stained face to look closely at the wizards. Her wizards.

She’d rather _die_ than hurt Harry or Ron; they’d been her family for the better part of her life. It didn’t seem to matter that Malfoy used to be her rival or that she only properly met Theo several months ago; she could _feel_ them through the strings in her heart that terrified her, and she no sooner wanted to hurt them than cut off her wand arm.

 _Firenze was right. This is the hardest test._ If she didn’t bond her magic with them, she could hurt loads of people. But she cared about these five wizards more than anything else in her life.

A soft female voice rang in Hermione’s head as a warm breeze passed by her ear.

_Listen to your soul._

*** *** ***

No more words were spoken, but when Hermione decided, it seemed that everyone knew.

Nobody asked if they were sure this was the right place, and nobody asked how they were supposed to stand in the courtyard. Four of the wizards spaced themselves around her, and Draco stole one last kiss before slowly letting go of her hand and stepping backwards into his own place. He exchanged one glance with Blaise; they understood that whatever was going to happen required a new kind of bravery. Their Slytherin instincts warned them to run, but their bond with Hermione demanded they stay put.

A sudden clap of thunder made them jump, and Hermione looked up just in time to see a jagged flash of lightning cut the sky in half. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to believe this wouldn’t be like her vision.

But she accepted she was a witch, and she accepted she was the Elemental Mage. Now, she needed to accept the impossible once again. She alone knew the burden of the elemental magic, but she needed to accept that these wizards – _her_ wizards – could withstand it.

Blaise’s sharp eyes caught something Hermione couldn’t see. The flash of lightning had illuminated some of the runes on her stone platform. _Strategy. Energy. Wisdom. Strength. Love._

Though her eyes were closed, Hermione felt the others around her. Against every fiber of her logic, which demanded she turn tail and run to spare her loved ones from pain, she reached deep into her heart and located the frail strings connecting her to them. Her core began to heat; without knowing exactly what was guiding her, she visualized the five strings and imagined how they stretched across the courtyard.

 _Ron._ A white string of meaning and strategy.

 _Harry._ A violet string of magical energy.

 _Theo._ A blue string of unequivocal wisdom.

 _Blaise._ A red string of strength and protection.

Hermione opened her eyes and met silver ones.

 _Draco._ A golden string of unconditional love.

As she lit the string between them, he raised his hand to shorten the distance. Instinctively, he knew. All five of them had reached in, clutching their strings as though they feared being pulled away from her. This was magic they hadn’t been taught at school. This magic was older than Hogwarts.

She felt everything they felt. She felt their determination to protect her, their courage in the face of an unknown fear. Their friendship – their _love_ – holding her steady.

As the next flash of lightning seared over her head, Hermione took a breath. She had never been so frightened.

_But that’s okay._

*** *** ***

Ron felt the string connected to Hermione, and he took hold of it without question. Magic was often unpredictable and confusing, but not this time. He held the string with all his belief, all his strength, all his power. Nothing in his Hogwarts education prepared him for this moment, and yet everything did.

Hermione was glowing. She shone with pure white energy, as if the lightning had been absorbed into her body – _or did it come from her body?_ She slowly turned; her eyes connected to Ron’s, and he understood. As though the brightest witch of her age was giving him a lecture with her eyes, he knew exactly what she asked of him.

He braced himself as she raised her palm to him. Her light raced down their string and collided with his hand.

It was _agony_.

As though the lightning struck against every inch of his hand, up his arm, into his chest … it burned, and it tore – Ron wondered if this was what the Cruciatus Curse felt like. He tried to ignore the shaking in every limb, the rupture of his veins … the very beats of his heart diminished. He desperately focused on her eyes, and he remembered.

_I have to do this for her._

For the woman he loved like family, for the schoolgirl who grew up beside him, for the brilliant witch who chose _him_ to share her power … he accepted.

Ron had no words for what happened next. He felt as though his magic _opened_ to connect with Hermione’s. Her magic spun like a cyclone and became entwined with his own. Perhaps it was something like an invasion, but he trusted her implicitly and embraced everything she offered.

The magic became a protective cocoon; all the pain vanished, and Ron was floating, lighter than air.

It was surreal; he felt as though she gave him her very breath, and he loved her more than ever before.

*** *** ***

Harry remembered battling Voldemort in the graveyard, four years ago. He didn’t understand the strange magic when their wand cores connected, but he remembered clinging to his vibrating wand, knowing instinctively that if he let go, Voldemort would win.

This was even more important. The string connecting him to Hermione felt like a lifeline; he held on because everything depended on it.

_I’ve always held on to her._

Ron was his best mate, but Harry’s relationship with Hermione was incomparable. She was his unwavering support, his logical balance, his sister he never knew he needed, his other half whose firm confidence helped him survive a dozen times. Perhaps the only person who never wanted anything from famous Harry Potter but his friendship.

Every emotion he ever experienced with her seemed to illuminate the string; she was speaking to him as she always did, calming his mind and being rational where he was reckless. He longed to tell her what she meant to him, how he _wanted_ to share this bond with her … Finding out he was her Guardian had been like finding out he was a wizard: it was confusing, but once he accepted it made perfect sense, as though part of him knew it all along. Now, he didn’t want to live without it.

Hermione drew forth a vivid violet light which sped down his string and crashed into him.

In an instant, Harry was _freezing_. He remembered curling up in his cupboard under the stairs during winter months under a single blanket, shivering all night long. He remembered swimming the icy sea with Dumbledore, seeking the horcrux locket. He remembered diving into a frozen pond in the middle of winter to retrieve the Sword of Gryffindor. This was more … this was cold beyond what his body could process, and he begged for it to stop. He didn’t think he could hold on.

He met her eyes for only a second, and he remembered.

_I’m holding on for her._

Perhaps his magic recognized his willingness to suffer for her. It extended from his heart and joined itself with hers. He enveloped her power and it rained over his body like a burst of healing energy, warming every frozen piece of him until he never felt more alive.

Although his physical exhaustion made him collapse to his knees, the next breath Harry drew was like the first breath of life, and he was as warm as when she fell asleep in his arms.

*** *** ***

Theo spent weeks studying magical bonds. It made sense that they all acted instinctively, as though their magic literally guided them in the right direction.

But nothing prepared him for this … he couldn’t explain how, when Hermione illuminated the string that bound him to her, he suddenly became aware of something incredible:

He could _see_ their souls.

There was no other explanation. He gave credence to the idea of a soul within a person which fueled their magic, and he believed firmly that Hermione’s soul was pure and strong, but he never imagined the soul was _literal_.

When Hermione accepted the lightning into her hands, her soul expanded with such pure illumination that Theo wondered if she would simply rise into the heavens and replace the sun. He watched her send part of her soul – her magic? – across the first string to join with Ron, who appeared in utter agony until his differently-coloured soul intertwined with hers. Then the two souls _merged_ , creating a perfect balance of ivory-white light which was the most beautiful thing Theo had ever seen.

Then she sent her soul to Harry, and Harry accepted the violet energy into himself as though he were embracing a loved one. Theo thought the brightness of their now united souls might blind him. Peripherally he was aware of Blaise next to him, his soul small next to Hermione’s but shining fiercely like a flame. Draco’s soul was equally bright but not quite the same. If Blaise’s soul was a glowing ember, Draco’s was pure starlight.

When Hermione turned from Harry towards him, Theo saw the determination in her eyes. Scared as she’d been about bonding to them, even about being the Mage, he knew she finally accepted. She progressed from the stubborn, hyper-rational witch into something new, something greater, and he was so proud of her. He opened his hand, waiting.

The electric blue force hit him like the weight of a charging Hippogriff.

Theo tried to gasp for air, but his entire chest cavity was compressed as though he was drowning. The volume of an ocean seemed to be crushing his lungs. Without breath, he couldn’t think. He tried to focus, but his awareness slipped away like water through cupped hands.

Theo Nott was _nothing_ without focus … perhaps his pain would be gone forever if he just let himself die?

 _Let it be over._ It would be so easy to cut the string, to let go … he wouldn’t miss this life.

In his last flicker of consciousness, Theo met the shining eyes of the Elemental Mage. The brilliant witch who chose _him_ to help her, to guide her. She’d only begun her journey … she needed him.

_I need to survive for her._

Though his lungs were still compressed, Theo felt his body breathe.

Awareness filled his mind to every crevice as he breathed in Hermione’s magic like pure oxygen. He inhaled it into his soul, and he felt it flow across his body like a gentle wave. His hands glowed with the purest blue light, and he suddenly understood parts of his own mind he never knew existed.

Every truth Theo ever believed was now meaningless. Every truth he would ever need was _her_.

*** *** ***

Blaise had been ten years old when he started working out with his stepfather of the time. A Muggle, but proud of it, his elder taught Blaise the importance of training for overcoming any boundary.

Can’t run to the beach? _Train._ Can’t climb to the top of the mountain? Can’t speak French? _Train._

Each month Blaise set himself a new goal, and he trained. It wasn’t always easy, but his stepfather helped him motivate. Fifteen struggling push-ups became fifty. A breathless climb to the top of a nearby hill became an easy jog. He learned Ancient Runes even though he had no natural talent for language, and mastered Astronomy even though he’d always found it pointless. He threw himself out of windows or over balconies toward the ground below, training his reflexes to grab the edge before falling. He’d broken his bones many times, but they always healed stronger; he sometimes wondered if they regrew themselves encased in iron.

Now, Blaise watched the agony in the faces of the brave Gryffindors. He listened to Theo’s horrible screams. Blaise warily felt the string in his hand and wondered how he could possibly train for _this_.

As Hermione turned towards him, Blaise suddenly wished he’d let her run away. Why hadn’t he ignored the bond and distracted himself from her? Surely Theo had been wrong; he could’ve broken the connection if he trained himself to forget her … she was just one girl; how could he give his life for her? It took _years_ before he learned to care about someone besides himself–

Blaise never felt such utter terror as the beam of scarlet light hurled toward him with the speed and strength of a comet.

His mind was _gone_.

How could a human being possibly comprehend this level of pain? Every inch of him was burning as though Hermione had reached into the very core of the earth and drenched him in scalding magma. He pictured his blackened, scorched body smoldering into ash that would blow away in the wind. He’d disappear from the face of the earth and become nothing.

The string was on fire; it was the source of his connection with her. Perhaps he’d survive if he let it go? Her magic, her essence – her _scent?_ – called to him, but the wild wolf in his chest had burned away and for the first time since she shocked him, he could resist her. He began to pull away.

Suddenly out of the charred remains of his mind, Blaise recalled a strange memory.

A pale, thin girl with bushy hair sitting in his room, begging him to be honest with her because she was concerned about her fellow students and barely considering her own safety. She was braver than anyone else he met, even though she was a wandless prisoner. A rush of unfamiliar emotion had moved through him, and he firmly pledged that he wouldn’t harm her or anyone she loved. He’d shaken on it, and she smiled at him when she decided she could trust him. She was the first person besides Draco who trusted him.

Then another memory: a black-eyed Slytherin boy laughing cruelly in her ear as blood poured from a gash in her throat. Her eyes closed as she started to die–

Blaise suddenly forgot the burning pain because it was nothing compared to the anger, the _fury_ of nearly losing her. He remembered how only Theo’s firm hand on his shoulder prevented him from tearing the black-eyed Slytherins limb from limb. Then for the longest eight hours of his life he waited for her to wake up … he prayed to every deity that he hadn’t been too late.

_She chose me … and I promised to protect her._

Though he wasn’t sure his eyes were still attached in his head since they should’ve melted away by now, he wanted to look at her so badly that he somehow managed to do it. Her eyes held the strength he forgot he had. He felt his magic, his wolf – his _soul_ – awaken, and every ounce of pain was forgotten.

Blaise reached out and _pulled_ Hermione’s energy from the fiery string into his own core, where it wrapped around his magic and exploded. But unlike the fiery abyss from which he just escaped, this was an explosion of purifying, cleansing golden flame.

The very string binding him to her had changed; Blaise trained it to become stronger. Like it passed through a blacksmith’s forge, their bond was unbreakable – encased in iron.

*** *** ***

Malfoys were supposed to be the best … they were supposed to be stronger and smarter than everybody else and when a pale, skinny, eleven-year-old Mudblood proved him wrong, Draco wanted to destroy her.

Saving her had been an inexplicable shift inside his mind. Perhaps the destiny of this elemental bond convinced him he needed to keep her alive? Or perhaps he couldn’t handle watching more torture, he couldn’t handle seeing a schoolmate dying in front of him, so he simply defied any Malfoy-logic he had left and took it upon himself to do the stupid thing and save the witch he hated?

But time proved saving her had been the _smart_ thing, because she helped him do exactly what he’d been failing to do for three years: she gave him the chance to keep his family alive. She saved _them_.

And then he should’ve forgotten her. Let her run back to her Gryffindors all happy and heroic while he retreated into the lingering remnants of his life … but no, Draco had to do the crazy thing and fall in love with her.

House arrest was hell – trapped by the Manor’s very walls, he couldn’t go find her. The memory of the last time he saw her face as she exited the Great Hall arm in arm with the Boy-Who-Lived-Again was emblazoned on the back of his eyelids. She raided his dreams every night, dug through his subconscious, and imprinted herself so fiercely on his heart he wondered if it now resembled a melted wax seal with a big HG stamped on it.

If he suspected she’d be anywhere but Hogwarts, he would’ve disobeyed his Ministry order to return to school and gone looking for her the moment he was free. Seeing her grin across the Great Hall made his entire body fill with joy he wasn’t used to. The first time he rode his broom and embraced his own magic was _nothing_ compared to the smile on that insufferable Gryffindor witch. Finding out later that she wanted _him_ was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. It _must_ be a trick.

She turned her hypnotizing eyes towards him now, and Draco knew it was his last chance to run away. Blaise, the strongest person he knew, was screaming in agony and reduced to a crumpled, broken mess beside him … was he even still breathing? If _he_ couldn’t survive this, how could Draco? His heart pounded like a Bludger in his chest.

Hermione’s warm brown eyes closed and opened again … but they were no longer brown. A golden light filled her eyes, then her hands, and it moved. In the space of a blink, the light thrust into Draco like a flaming sword.

Every doubt, every fear he felt in his life pierced through his heart.

_Ripped apart by lightning … alone, lost in the dark … Father’s disappointment … can’t control magic … never have real friends or be as good as Potter … just a house-elf … useless … he’ll kill us all … failed to protect her …_

Draco thought his body would splinter like rotting wood, or shatter apart like glass, the broken shards turning to sand. He should’ve run when he had the chance …

 _You can’t run from who you are_ – _Malfoys don’t love! Your family is tiny and broken. Arranged marriages and pure-blood supremacy are your family’s history … NOBODY believes you can love._

_You are NOTHING._

He stopped fighting for breath and fully prepared to give up. To break the string. To run away, for the very last time. _Always the coward_ –

Draco suddenly felt something, as a warm hand on his face, encouraging him to open his eyes. He thought he might be blinded by the golden light that outshone the sun itself, but he looked past the halo of light into her eyes. The most powerful witch on the planet … and her warm, gentle brown eyes were filled with love. Love for _him._

_I CAN’T be nothing if I have her …_

The doubts shattering his body into dust vanished, replaced by images that spun through his mind like a sandstorm: A clever witch who countered him with confidence, who looked up at him hopefully when he said he’d try to keep her safe, who stared at him in awe when he lied to his father for her, laughed at him when he teased her, cried for him when she saw his scars … a beautiful girl who wanted _him_ …

The string connecting them didn’t break. It began to grow and strengthen … it became stronger than a rope or even a chain, and Draco understood. It was strengthened by his soul, his magic … his heart.

And his heart was _her_.

*** *** ***

The professor sat up with a horrible scream as he felt an indescribable pain coursing through his veins.

He rolled sideways out of bed and retched. _What in the world_ – _?_

He’d thought he might be ill, but no illness would cause a horrid, black … _shadow_ to spill from his gaping mouth.

The frozen professor couldn’t breathe; he watched in agony and confusion as the shadow swirled around his shaking body; he tried to remember what happened last, but his memories were fuzzy and broken.

He reached a shaking hand up to the bedside table for his wand, but the terrifying shadow moved of its on accord, collided with him, and he was thrown backwards.

His head bounced off the stone floor, and he remembered nothing else.

*** *** ***

Hermione thought she must’ve blacked out. The whole thing felt like a dream …

Not a dream. A nightmare.

They were in agony … she put them through so much pain. It was worse than what she saw in the Mirror. She felt every inch of their bodies being burnt, frozen, shocked, drowned, and destroyed. She felt their fear, she heard their screams, she knew how much they wanted to die.

She knew how easy it would’ve been; they only had to let go. Their pain would be gone … but they didn’t let her go.

Hermione felt a glowing in her heart, incomparable to any love she could fathom.

_They held on for me._

*** *** ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch for VOL III: Acceptance coming April 2021!


End file.
